


Baby, I'm Sweet On You

by tremmy_chii



Category: GOT7
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Fingering, First Time, Fluff, Frottage, Humor, M/M, Rimming, Slow Burn, Smut, and a hella lotta feelings cause I'm s o f t don't look at me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2018-10-13 08:36:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 161,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10510179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tremmy_chii/pseuds/tremmy_chii
Summary: Bambam’s got a lot going for him. He’s got school, a job, a fashion show, a sugar daddy -“Don’t call him my sugar daddy, you little shit!”Yugyeom throws his hands up. “Fine. How about ‘Personal Benefactor’?"(Or, Bambam’s a sweet pretty young thing who may or may not have fallen in love with a man eight years his senior. Life is hard, okay?)





	1. take it easy, take it slow

Yugyeom is laughing at a joke and halfway through lifting his drink up to his lips when a hand snatches it away. His nose scrunches up and his eyes widen in exasperation at the sight of Bambam downing his entire drink in one shot.

 

“I bought that!” He whines at the same time that Bambam sticks his tongue out, animatedly shivering in disgust.

 

“That wasn’t water,” Bambam has the nerve to say after stealing his _very_ expensive drink, goddamn it.

 

“Of course it wasn’t,” Yugyeom narrows his eyes and snatches the empty glass right back. Even if there wasn’t any alcohol in there anymore, he might as well hold it and _look_ like he’s holding some alcohol. “You think I’d be at the club with some _water_?”

 

Bambam completely ignores him and looks at Jungkook instead. “Hey, want to come dance with me?”

 

“Sure,” Jungkook easily agrees, and they share a smile at the sight of Yugyeom indignantly inviting himself to the dance floor as well.

 

The three of them push their way through the wave of people grinding against each other and find themselves a good spot. It’s nice – the flashing lights aren’t in their eyes, the music is loud enough to feel every beat but not deafen them, and it’s not too cramped. It takes a little bit to warm up, but soon they are body rolling and swaying their hips unabashedly, laughing every now and then when Yugyeom’s long limbs hit an innocent bystander. None of them are really out tonight for “company,” so it’s especially hilarious when a girl taps Jungkook on the shoulder and starts getting into his space, Jungkook staring back at them with red sirens alerting for help. It takes a bit too long for Jungkook to react and to refuse her advances, so he somehow ends up getting further and further away from them.

 

They watch from the corners of their eyes in amusement as they pretend not to see his desperation to escape. Yugyeom places his hands on Bambam’s waist and they pretend to be completely immersed in each other, Bambam even throwing in a little flutter of his lashes for effect. It’s fun until they realize they can’t see Jungkook anymore, and Bambam removes his arms from around Yugyeom’s neck.

 

“I think I should go find him, make sure he’s not about to break his face in mortification or something,” Yugyeom yells over the music. Bambam nods and yells right back.

 

“I’ll stay right here.”

 

And with that, Yugyeom squeezes through a small gap of people and disappears.

 

Bambam suddenly finds himself in a circle of a lot of space, or at least relative to what most people have at the club. It’s kind of awkward now that he has to try to fill up the lack of two other people here with his own dancing, but he supposes it won’t take long for everyone else to inch in. Maybe later Yugyeom and Jungkook will have to find _him_. He gets back into the music. It’s a slower, more sensual song playing right now, and Bambam does his best to blend in with everyone else. He’s making waves with his body and running his hands down his chest to rest at his inner thighs. His head rolls to the side to reveal a slight sheen of sweat clinging onto his neck. Bambam closes his eyes and immerses himself, even mouthing along to some of the dirty lyrics as he swings his small hips back and forth sweetly. The hotter the dance floor got from all of the body heat, the more Bambam finds himself into the sultry whispers of the song.

 

Suddenly, a cold shiver runs down his spine. Bambam’s eyes snap open and he looks around, finding nothing. He chalks it up to perhaps the feeling of his own sweat dampening his top and maybe a burst of air conditioning hitting him from above. It might just be due to the atmosphere of the club, but it feels like a long time for Yugyeom and Jungkook to be gone. Bambam briefly wonders if they have gotten themselves into trouble but dismisses it right away. If there’s any trouble to be found, it would’ve started with Bambam and ended with Bambam.

 

He’s still moving to the music, but clearly not as immersed as he tiptoes in his boots and tries to find any sign of a redhead. Yugyeom’s mushroom head is always a great location indicator.

 

Bambam sweeps his eyes over the dancing crowd and across the private booths, then to the bar where they had been previously. His silver eyes (for tonight) glances from right to left, past the bartender, past the couple, past the dark piercing eyes staring right at him, past the restroom behind it, past the-!

 

Wait.

 

Bambam’s heart jumps as he quickly does a double take on the man at the bar, whose predatory eyes is so black and intense that it completely shocks Bambam, even after holding the eye contact for more than a while. Even in the dark, he’s strikingly handsome. The shadows rest sinfully on his cheekbones and cut an edge on his jawline. His hair is artfully pushed up, the sides shaved cleanly and highlighting the silver jewels looping in his ears. A sleek, black blazer hangs on his broad shoulders, and his luxurious silk top is left unbuttoned at the top. He looks effortlessly sexy and elegant – and Bambam is mesmerized. Neither of them breaks the gaze, and Bambam is frozen cold on the dance floor, the same chills from earlier crawling up and down his back. The man takes a sip of his drink, and Bambam is the one to crack when he finds his eyes automatically attracted to the bob of the man’s Adam’s apple. The realization flusters him, which simultaneously makes him come upon another imminent problem: he wasn’t breathing during the entire exchange. When Bambam looks up again, there’s a smirk on his lips.

 

With a deep breath and a sudden surge of irritation, Bambam harshens his gaze – then softens it into a hazy, half-lidded smolder in a split second. If the man wants a show, oh, he’s _getting a show_.

 

The song has changed again, but it’s still in the same soulful, sensual trend that the DJ has been putting up so far. A glint of mischief lights up Bambam’s eyes for a second when he realizes he knows the song. Bambam turns around, back facing the man. He then gyrates his hips at an infuriating slow pace, in the way that he _knows_ his ass looks good. He looks over his shoulder, faking a coy flutter of lashes and tucking a little stray strand of silver hair behind his ear. Bambam’s eyes slowly travel up to meet the man’s intense gaze again. (And Bambam inwardly relishes at the lack of a smirk on his face, seemingly even more focused on Bambam. Hah.)

 

He mouths the lyrics to the song.

 

_Don’t stop looking at me._

 

And Bambam abruptly snaps his eyes away, feeling victorious as he brings out his best moves. Bambam looks good. He knows he looks good because he _always_ looks good. And tonight is no different. A body-hugging black turtleneck adorns his torso, but it’s slightly cropped at the bottom to reveal an inch of soft, golden skin every time he raises his arms. A silver body chain wraps around his top and rests innocently on his hips. His leather pants are tight and make his little butt stand out, while his slightly heeled boots accentuate and lengthen his already long legs. He’s got on a berry-colored tint on his full lips, and they look sweet and bitten as the light catches the little bit of gloss. Bambam’s eyes have been lightly lined with kohl and colored with a bit of red shadow. Bambam looks _so_ good; he’s almost offended that it took this long for a pair of hands to grip onto his hips. (He also tries to not let the fact that the man is gently toying with his body chain affect him.)

 

The cold tip of a nose brushes against the skin of his neck, followed by the fleeting warmth of a huff of breath. Bambam can’t help the visible shiver in him this time, which somehow encourages the man to press closer. Bambam feels so small – the man was even bigger than he looked, and the size difference is making his confidence slip away. They humor each other a little bit by rocking to the music, heartbeats pounding a little louder with every passing second.

 

Bambam finds the courage to turn his head to the side to look at him. It’s a bad idea, because his knees buckle and the man laughs a bit and well _fuck_ if that wasn’t the fatal blow then Bambam doesn’t know what else _is_. (Okay. There are lots of worse things.)

 

“I’m Jaebum.” Oh, there are twin moles on his left eye. Just kidding, because that’s totally the fatal blow. “What’s yours, baby?”

 

Bambam blushes prettily at the pet name already, and this time the flutter of his lashes isn’t fake. “Bambam.”

 

There’s a hum of acknowledgment before they get back to rocking, which is surprisingly innocent now that Bambam has composed himself enough to notice. Jaebum is incredibly gentlemanly, keeping his hands strictly off Bambam’s skin no matter how many times his top rides up. Jaebum smells woodsy, of pines and musk. But when Bambam takes another whiff, it’s also of strong alcohol. He raises an eyebrow, wondering how much of this entire night so far has been due to real attraction or just lust induced under the influence. It’s okay though, Bambam thinks as he overlaps the hands on him. He leans his head back on Jaebum’s shoulder and smiles, seeing the heavy gaze on his lips. It’s just some fun for the night.

 

Since Jaebum refuses to do much else, Bambam takes things into his own accord and drags their right hands up his hips, into the dangerous area where the hem of his top uncovers his skin. As the action causes the cold body chain to touch his sensitive stomach, Bambam lets out a small whine from the back of his throat. This causes Jaebum’s other hand to tighten into a death-like grip on his hips, eyes widening and dilating right before Bambam. They’ve gotten closer, and the heat is escalating at an alarming rate.

 

Jaebum closes in on Bambam, but stops a mere inch before their lips meet. Their noses are already touching and Bambam’s eyes close shut. Warm puffs of air mingle in between them for what feels like an hour, the music fading into the background as the hard thumps of their hearts take the center stage. Bambam’s eyes open slowly, and he finds that Jaebum has already been looking at him with a twinge of something he can’t put a finger around. There’s clarity in them, however, and so he must be more sober than Bambam gave him credit for.

 

“What are you waiting for,” Bambam sighs.

 

Something seems to break between them in that small moment before Jaebum takes the plunge, finally closing the distance and sinking into Bambam’s soft lips. It’s a hot and wet kiss, where Bambam immediately opens up for him and lets Jaebum chase his tongue with teasing little licks. Bambam’s gloss initially helps the glide, but soon it turns messy as Jaebum seems to get hungrier and _hungrier_ the more he spends his time exploring the entirety of Bambam’s mouth. Bambam tries his best to keep up with the feverish pace that Jaebum has set, overwhelmed and out of breath at the intensity of it all. Every time he pulls away for a short break of air, Jaebum is high on his tails and chasing after him for another kiss. Jaebum sips and laps at his bottom lip as he traces Jaebum’s upper lip with his tongue. In the next moment, Jaebum is back to engulfing him again, pushing in deeply and passionately while tangling them together.

 

They’re not so much dancing anymore, rather just making out in the middle of the dance floor. Arousal settles into the pit of Bambam’s stomach and he can feel himself twitching with interest. His legs feel weak, and Jaebum’s hand is now rubbing circles on his skin. The other hand has mysteriously moved from his hips to his inner thigh and Bambam has no idea when that even happened. Bambam releases gasps and suppressed moans as Jaebum licks into his mouth. Eventually, the angle gets uncomfortable and Bambam literally has to pry Jaebum’s fingers off of him for a second to move around.

 

Jaebum growls at the separation, the sound sending heat right down to his groin. Bambam simply loops his arms around Jaebum’s neck and they get right back into it. Strong arms encircle his waist, and Bambam feels like he’s on fire. Pleasure snakes around him, pulling a rather breathy moan out of him this time – there’s something sinfully enticing about being trapped, being held in this man’s embrace.

 

Jaebum starts going down his neck by pushing the knitwear down, littering kisses in his wake. Bambam can’t help but arch into him, baring his neck for more. Jaebum is the one to lead them back into dancing and Bambam absent-mindedly follows his example, rolling his body with Jaebum like an answer and call. Bambam doesn’t know how many songs they’ve gone through by now, but his throat has definitely gone dry. Jaebum is busy sucking a light mark just beneath his ear when a particular roll of the hips grinds their pelvises together, prompting a choked gasp from Bambam and an accidental too-harsh bite on the mark. That felt good. That felt _too_ good.

 

Bambam’s eyes snap out of their hazy state as he takes in the fact that they’re both at least half-hard. Red rushes up to his face as he vividly feels the man’s hard front pressing up against him. Jaebum seems to be completely unaffected and in fact, stepping past the line for more as he places a hand and finger down between the cheeks of Bambam’s leather-clad ass. Flustered, Bambam forces a hand between them and pushes to create some distance.

 

“Sorry, I – I don’t plan on going home with anybody,” Bambam blurts out hastily.

 

This seems to snap Jaebum out of his spell as well. He quickly moves his hands away and slides them into Bambam’s hands instead. Bambam widens his eyes at their linked hands, wondering maybe if this was a touch too intimate for a – “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disrespect you at all.”

 

The sincere apology has Bambam baffled, but warmth and relief spreads across his chest as he smiles, accepting it. “It’s okay, I guess I was leading you on.”

 

“You weren’t,” Jaebum quickly shakes his head. “I went ahead of myself.”

 

They look at each other in silence after that, which causes Bambam to feel shy again. It’s odd. He usually has more composure than this. Bambam bites his lip and looks away, unable to bear the unblinking, heated gaze of the other man. The club lights decide to make its appearance at this moment, sweeping a magenta light over their figures for a second. As the light drags away from them, it catches onto Bambam’s downcast lashes, the shadow of them fanning across his flushed cheeks. At this same moment, Jaebum’s breath is stolen, unconsciously murmuring a single word:

 

_Pretty._

 

Bambam sees the movement of his lips, but doesn’t quite catch what was said. “What?”

 

He’ll never get to hear it, he supposes, as Jaebum turns his head away in embarrassment. Jaebum has thus far been painted in a mature and manly light, so the boyish contrast in his look right now has Bambam giggling. This catches Jaebum’s attention – a soft smile spreads on his lips.

 

“We’ve been…dancing…for a while. Let me buy you a drink.” Jaebum doesn’t even wait for an answer (though it would have been “yes”) and pushes through the crowd, still holding one of Bambam’s hands. Bambam rolls his eyes at “dancing.” The journey to the bar was quite easy for him, considering how Jaebum’s large frame took the blunt of the pushing and shoving while Bambam simply followed behind on the paved path. They barely make it to two seats there when an angry shout was heard.

 

“There you are!”

 

Another man in a stiff, starched suit stomps over to them. Bambam stares at his exposed ankles and ugly boat shoes. Would it hurt that man to spend three extra seconds in the morning for some black socks? The sight suddenly makes Bambam very appreciative of Jaebum’s polished dress shoes.

 

Jaebum’s lips tighten into a line.

 

“Why are you out on a Sunday night? Don’t you know you have to be up by _five_ to make it to the–!”

 

“Don’t talk to me like that, Jinyoung,” Jaebum interrupts but seems to regret it when the man (Jinyoung, Bambam helpfully supplies) looks like he’s about to burst.

 

“ _Hyung_ , I will talk to you as I please when you’re out here being irresponsible getting drunk and–!” Jinyoung’s eyes settle on Bambam, and he looks absolutely scandalized. Bambam straightens up his posture.

 

“Don’t look at him like that,” Jaebum bristles. “And I’m not drunk.”

 

Jinyoung scoffs. “Every time you say you’re not drunk, you’re drunk.”

 

“I’m really not this time!”

 

The two men continue to argue as Bambam fidgets in his seat. It looks like it’s about time for him to leave, considering how Jinyoung is half-dragging Jaebum away. He attempts to make his exit silent, slipping off the stool and turning away from the scene. For the first time in a while, he can actually see Yugyeom and Jungkook chatting in a booth. Bambam makes his way over, but a hand grabs onto to his, stopping him in his tracks.

 

“Where are you going?” Jaebum’s eyes are wide and his mouth is parted open. If Bambam didn’t know better, he would think that Jaebum looks desperate.

 

“Home,” Bambam says. “I had fun tonight, thanks for the company.” He offers him a smile and pulls away.

 

“Wait!” Jaebum digs his hand into his back pocket for his wallet and pulls out a business card. It’s matte black and professional with engraved silver letters. “Call me. My personal number’s not on there, but I promise you’ll be able to get to me. I’ll make sure you do.” And with that, Jinyoung grabs him, pushing to the exit of the club.

 

Jinyoung doesn’t even wait to be out of earshot before he hisses, “You’re _crazy_. I’ve never seen you with someone so young…” The rest of the sentence dies off with distance.

 

Bambam watches them leave with blinking eyes. He’s 20. Sure, he’s still in college but he’s not _that_ young compared to them, right? He’s perfectly legal. Bambam looks down to the card in his hand and reads it for the first time.

 

_Im Jaebum_

Director of Finance

010-XXXX-XXXX

**IM FINANCIAL GROUP**

 

Bambam nearly trips on air and falls on his face – “What!” Im Financial Group. _Im Financial Group._ Im Financial Group: leading investment company in Korea? Even a foreigner like him has at least briefly heard about the huge corporation. Bambam pales at the weight of Jaebum’s importance and feels his stomach drop. Bambam knew that he was an older man – after all, he did carry a very mature and grown air about him – but he didn’t think Jaebum was _that_ old. Being a director, he must be at least in his late twenties; he’ll most likely be in his early thirties. Jinyoung must’ve been his secretary or something. He’s right – they would be utterly crazy to try to start anything from this. And by the tone of his voice, Bambam figures the gap is significant.

 

That should be enough reason to toss the card, but it’s slipped into his back pocket before he can even realize what he’s done.

 

Yugyeom and Jungkook brighten up when they see Bambam plopping onto the cushion with them.

 

“Hey, had fun?” Yugyeom asks as he hands Bambam a glass – with actual water this time. Bambam chugs it down then shrugs, still shaken by the fact that he dirty-danced and made out with Im Jaebum. He…did…that. Bambam did that.

 

“Whatever,” Bambam vaguely replies.

 

“Really?” Jungkook smirks. “Cause from what ‘Gyeom and I saw, it looked like you thoroughly enjoyed that guy shoving his tongue down your throat.”

 

“Shut up, you can’t even handle a girl looking at you.”

 

“What happened? We thought we might have to go home without you for the first time,” Yugyeom wiggles his eyebrows, a devious grin plastered on his face. “You were so into him.”

 

“I was not,” Bambam huffs. “He’s just a good kisser.” The other two stare at him pointedly. “And hot.” He dunks his head into his arms on the table. “And nice.”

 

“Did you get his number?” Jungkook leans in.

 

There’s a beat of silence before Bambam says, “No.” Yugyeom reaches around him and pulls him into his side, where Bambam gladly nestles in comfort like a second home.

 

“Aw,” Yugyeom strokes his hair. “It’s okay, you only lost a great catch.” A small spark of satisfaction blossoms within Bambam when he steps on Yugyeom’s foot under the table and earns a pained yowl.

 

They call it a night and head home, thanking Jungkook for the ride as Yugyeom and Bambam head into their apartment. Yugyeom proceeds to sleep in his clubbing clothes, but Bambam stays up a bit longer to shower and take off his makeup. He looks in the mirror and his heart pounds against his chest at the sight of the bite under his ear from earlier. It’s not so bad. It’s bruising, but not as much skin was broken as he had expected. Bambam’s fingers ghost over the mark. His eyes trail over to his lips and he lets out a shaky breath. They’re plump and worn, having been thoroughly kissed. The tint he was wearing at the beginning of the night has worn off; the redness in them must’ve been by Jaebum.

 

Bambam rips himself away from the mirror and hops into the hot shower. But then he suddenly thinks of the way Jaebum gripped his hips and thigh, the way he felt solid and warm when Bambam leaned back into him. Bambam quickly rinses off and gets out before he can think of anything else, chucking his clothes into a laundry basket for tomorrow and burrowing his head into his pillow.

 

He’s on the brink of sleep when his brain helpfully reminds him of Jaebum’s melodic voice as he called him “baby.” Bambam blushes hotly, turning over in his bed. He glares at the ceiling half an hour later; it reads 3:24AM on his clock and he resigns to his sleepless fate.

 

-

 

Bambam spends the next week waking up half an hour earlier than Yugyeom to cover up marks, always looking pristine and sharp by the time Yugyeom enters their single bathroom to pee with both eyes closed. Although they’re majoring in completely different things, they’ve managed to match up their schedules close enough to share a ride to university in the mornings. Bambam’s in his third year of fashion design while Yugyeom’s in dance. They had met way back when Bambam still looked like a baby, fresh off the plane from Thailand and rapidly typing on his phone for translations. They were stuck in a group together for freshman orientation and had kicked it off despite the language barrier due to Bambam’s knack for body humor and Yugyeom’s high-pitched laughter. They shared the same taste in music, in movies, and later on in memes. Bambam wasn’t a bad dancer either, so when there was free time, he’d visit the dance studio with Yugyeom in the late nights to practice some choreography and freestyle.

 

Yugyeom and Bambam were attached by the hip. Where there were dance competitions, there would be Bambam in the front row hollering the loudest of them all, whooping and hyping up his best friend. And where there were fashion shows, there would be Yugyeom walking down that runway adorning every piece of Bambam’s blood, sweat, and tears. They have been there for each other through every ups and downs of life; nothing could escape the other’s eyes. Including that hickey Bambam has been quietly painting over with concealer.

 

They’re in the car at a red light when Yugyeom sees an unblended line of makeup at the edge of the mark. Bambam has his eyes glued to his phone on the passenger’s seat, humming to the girl group song playing on the radio. Yugyeom drives them to school safely first before stopping Bambam from getting out of the car.

 

“Wait, you’ve got…” Yugyeom reaches out and smudges the line with his thumb. Bambam slaps his hand over the area with wide eyes. “There,” Yugyeom smiles.

 

“…Thanks,” Bambam relaxes and flashes one back. “Don’t wait for me today, I’m going to work on my portfolio with Jimin.”

 

“Okay, just text me if you need a ride.”

 

And with that, they go their separate ways. They’re further along into the semester now, and work is starting to really pick up. Bambam has actually been procrastinating on his sketches and patterns for a while now (what’s new) and the deadline for evaluations is getting closer than he’s comfortable with. But then again, he works better under pressure, he reasons. (Theory not tested.) At least he’s ahead on that paper about the history of fashion. The real reason for his neglect on his assignment though, is the fact that he’s been preparing a completely separate portfolio of designs for his interview for a paid internship at pushBUTTON. With his experience and embellished resume, he knew he could make the cut if he just tweaked his style a little bit on the menswear to be cleaner and less loud like his own personal preference. That, along with some help from Yugyeom, Mark, and Namjoon in modeling his works, made him a competitive applicant.

 

Bambam was busy. And so he didn’t have time to think about Jaebum and that night. Ever. Okay, maybe not _ever_ but he has guiltily been able to draw in a lot of inspiration from Jaebum in general, especially on the way he looked, the way he dressed. He admittedly designed nearly half a sketchbook full of pieces and look-books with the vision of Jaebum wearing them. It was classy and chic, but sexy in its play on textures and colors. It looked perfect for a trendy businessman, perfect for a man of royalty.

 

Although Bambam was grateful for the edge Jaebum had given him for his fashion endeavors and even felt attracted to him…that was all it would ever amount to. He knew it would be nothing but a good memory and so he was determined to keep it that way, ignoring the business card he was given. That…and Bambam kind of accidentally threw it into the wash with the rest of his clothes and by the time he fished it out, it was just a soggy piece of paper with missing letters. But that’s just the details – he wasn’t going to call anyway so it didn’t matter.

 

For another week, it’s relatively uneventful yet jam-packed with work to do. Bambam falls into a routine of attending classes, having quick lunches with friends, studying the latest trends and upcoming designer collections, and working on his portfolio through the night. Yugyeom seems to be in the same situation, spending more and more hours at the studio and coming home late.

 

Finally, the day of the interview arrives. Bambam is half an hour early, and after loitering in front of the office for a minute, he decides that he can spare some time for a cup of coffee at the shop across the street. Today he’s in a warm cream sweater and a long gray winter coat. The email he received said that casualwear would be alright, but it felt strange to not dress up so he settled for something in between, putting on a simple watch and dress shoes to go with his black trousers. His makeup is natural – he wants to look fresh, so all there is is a thin layer of bb cream, filled-in brows, and lip balm.

 

Upon entering the coffee shop, it doesn’t look too busy, which is good. He’ll probably be able to get his coffee in ten minutes. Bambam steps over to the line, scanning his eyes through the menu. Hm, a chai latte instead might be good too. The customer at the front finishes ordering and Bambam moves forward, now second in line. Suddenly, someone grabs onto his elbow. He flinches at the sudden contact, and then promptly freezes when he sees whom it is.

 

It’s Jaebum.

 

It’s Jaebum and he’s sweeping his eyes over Bambam’s appearance from head to toe, as if he can’t believe that he’s actually here. There’s a fire in his eyes when they shoot up to stare into Bambam’s, which looks back in anxiety. Bambam should’ve just loitered at the office. He didn’t even want a coffee that bad. He would rather freeze his ass in the cold than be here, stuck and stiff in Jaebum’s hold. Jaebum is grinding his jaw, which Bambam would find hot if he wasn’t so intimidated right now.

 

Jaebum’s hair is parted on the side this time, curling in the center in that “comma” style that’s been all over top-list celebrities. His flashy piercings from that night has been reduced to two simple black studs. He’s still as dressed up as ever, clad in a dark gray pinstripe suit with a white button-up and slim black tie. The hand holding onto Bambam has a gold Rolex above it.

 

(Bambam inwardly sweats. He was looking at the fucking Tom Ford suit from the SS16 collection literally last night and here it is in front of him, looking even better on Jaebum than the Caucasian model online.)

 

“Why didn’t you call?” He asks. And surprisingly, there’s no aggression in his tone despite his imposing figure. He just sounds – torn. Bambam fidgets, racking his brain for an answer that’s not “I put your number in the washing machine.”

 

“Excuse me?” The cashier calls them, turning their heads towards her. “Are you ordering?”

 

“Yes,” Jaebum answers at the same time that Bambam says, “No.” This earns the younger an unamused look. A hand nudges Bambam forward between his shoulder blades. Jaebum whips out his wallet, and it’s clear that Bambam is going to have to order or else. Or else _what_ , Bambam doesn’t know but he’s not going to find out.

 

“…A small chai latte, please.”

 

“Make it a large,” Jaebum hands over his card. It’s a platinum black card.

 

Bambam purses his lips as the cashier glances between the both of them, hesitating while punching in the order. Bambam is pretty sure she’s giving him a chance to refuse, but he decides to stay silent for the rest of the purchase. They head over to an empty table for two by the window to wait for their orders. Jaebum was here a little earlier, so his Americano comes out first. Bambam plays with his fingers under the table, looking out the window and pretending to be into the view. He ignores the piercing, narrow eyes that he knows is pointed at him, but it grows increasingly difficult as he can literally feel it getting heavier and heavier. Goddamn it. Does Jaebum have to be intense at everything he does?

 

After Bambam gets his drink, Bambam proceeds to keep drinking it. If he’s preoccupied, there’s no chance for a conversation, right? He’s through a third of his large latte when Jaebum catches on to his trick and breaks the silence.

 

“I waited.”

 

Bambam looks up. His eyebrows are turned downwards at the ends. (Yugyeom has once said it made him look like a whimpering puppy, to which Bambam tackled him for and demanded he take it back as if it was an insult. If Jaebum’s melting eyes are any indication, he would’ve agreed with Yugyeom.)

 

“For your call,” Jaebum clarifies. Bambam shrinks into himself in shame; it’s much easier to leave someone hanging when you believe they weren’t really waiting.

 

“I was busy.” Lame, but not completely a lie.

 

Jaebum hums in response, and they both take a sip of their warm drinks. They sit through another spell of silence, letting the background noises of brewing coffee and casual chatting fill the ambience. Bambam checks the time; he has ten more minutes until his interview. He should get going.

 

“How old are you?”

 

“Twenty.”

 

Jaebum smiles to himself, even releasing a short huff of laughter. “You’re not _that_ young…” anything else is a mumble. Bambam straightens up in his seat, frowning. What was that supposed to mean?

 

“And how old are you?” He shoots back.

 

“Twenty-eight.”

 

“ _You’re_ the one who’s not that young,” Bambam sticks his tongue out. Jaebum looks at him above his coffee, so he belatedly adds the honorific. “…Hyung.” Jaebum grins and rests his face on his hand, setting the coffee aside.

 

“You look good today,” uhm, has this man seen himself? “Are you going anywhere?”

 

At this, Bambam jolts and checks the time again. He only has five minutes now. “Actually, yes.” He stands up and grabs his portfolio and drink. He raises said drink up, “Thank you for paying. I have an interview right now so uh…bye, hyung!”

 

“Wait!” Jaebum’s abrupt standing causes the chair to screech on the wooden floor, causing everyone to wince. “Not again.” He quickly unlocks his phone and holds it out to Bambam, who blinks at it dumbly. “If you won’t call, I will. Give me your number?”

 

Bambam really, really needs to go. He figures it would be faster to give in, so he wordlessly types his number in and hands it back, foregoing adding his name and other info. He smiles and bids another goodbye under his breath, dashing out the door before Jaebum can finish his “see you.”

 

Bambam makes it to his interview just in time and puts on his most charming smile. As he had hoped, the interview goes well. The design director who happened to pass by in the middle of it seemed to be impressed with his portfolio, going through each page and asking multiple questions that Bambam had all the answers to. His interviewer also seemed pleased with his eager and bright personality, which translated into some of his work for the women’s apparel. The only downside was that it took two hours. And Bambam had to hold in his pee for more than half of it.

 

-

 

“Gyeom!”

 

Yugyeom can hear his name being called out in increasing volume as it approaches his room. The door slams open just as he hits pause on the choreography video he was watching. A blurry ball of silver pounces on him on the bed, and he looks down to find an armful of Bambam. Bambam looks ecstatic and by the property of association, Yugyeom feels happy too.

 

“Gyeom, Gyeom, Gyeom, Kim Yugyeom! I got the internship!” Bambam grins into his hand.

 

“Really?” Yugyeom lifts him up so they can look at each other. Yugyeom can feel his face splitting into a mirroring grin. “Really?”

 

“Really, really!” Bambam nods rapidly and then they scramble up the bed to jump around, screaming. Bambam bursts into a flurry of dabs and his partner in crime follows, laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. Bambam launches himself into an absurd pose, pointing both arms at Yugyeom. “Interview?” He prompts.

 

“EAZYYYY!” Yugyeom bellows.

 

“Fashion design?”

 

“EAZYYYY!!”

 

“Kunpimook Bhuwakul, the next household designer name?”

 

“EAZYYYY!!!” They both pour their lungs out roaring.

 

Yugyeom goes and orders an entire fried chicken to celebrate immediately. Screw dieting and abstaining from midnight snacks. In the meantime, Bambam changes into his rattiest clothes, flailing about to crack some bones. The portfolio from earlier in the day is chucked to the side. Now that it’s served its purpose, Bambam doesn’t want to look at it ever again. Too many all-nighters were spent on that wrenched thing. Half an hour later, they’re sitting in the living room in front of the TV, munching on the chicken and beer as Naruto screams “Sasuke” for the millionth time.

 

“You know, I’m really proud of you,” Yugyeom talks around a mouthful of chicken.

 

“Thanks. I’m proud of you too,” Bambam nudges him with his elbow, and then they proceed to make faces at each other to get rid of the cheesy atmosphere from their confessions. They continue to eat and watch anime until the food runs out, making some commentary here and there. It’s nearly 2AM when they wrap things up, discarding the trash and washing their hands. Bambam’s still busy lathering up the hand soap in the kitchen when he hears his phone vibrate on the coffee table. Since Yugyeom’s hands are dry, he asks him to check the message.

 

Yugyeom pads to the living room, easily getting past the password and tapping the new message notification. “It’s an unknown number,” he calls to Bambam.

 

Bambam furrows his eyebrows, rinsing his hands. “What? Read it to me!”

 

“‘Hey, it’s Jaebum hyung.’ Who’s Jaebum hyung?” Yugyeom asks. Bambam lets out a strangled noise in recognition and runs to the living room. “‘Sorry to bother you when it’s so late. Are you awake?’”

 

Bambam snatches the phone out of Yugyeom’s hands, who lets out an indignant, “Hey!” Bambam’s jaw drops in horror at the messages – he completely forgot about giving his number away after the euphoria of his new internship.

 

 _Oh god._ Since Yugyeom opened the messages, they have a little “read” checkmark next to them. “Damn it, Yugyeom! Now he sees that I’ve seen them!” Bambam swats at Yugyeom, whose suspicions are raised at the strange behavior.

 

“You told me to check your messages,” Yugyeom points out, trying to look over Bambam’s shoulder at the phone. Bambam has no choice but to reply.

 

**me**

[Thu, Nov. 4, 1:57AM]

it’s okay hyung! im awake ^^

 

“Ahhh! Was that too cute? Oh my god,” Bambam groans. The ellipses bubble that indicates the other party is typing pops up. Bambam nearly drops his phone. “Oh no, he’s going to say something and I’m not ready.”

 

“Who’s Jaebum hyung,” Yugyeom asks again.

 

“I’ll tell you later!” Bambam makes a mad dash to his room, closing the door and burrowing under his covers, where he feels the safest. He can be ready for anything under here.

 

**010-XXXX-XXXX**

[Thu, Nov. 4, 1:59AM]

how did your interview go?

 

**me**

[Thu, Nov. 4, 2:00AM]

it went great! I got the job

thanks for asking

 

Bambam taps on the number to create a new contact.

 

**Im Jaebum**

[Thu, Nov. 4, 2:01AM]

I’m glad. Congrats ^^

 

Huh, he uses smileys. How unexpected. Bambam wiggles his toes, waiting for the next message.

 

**Im Jaebum**

[Thu, Nov. 4, 2:03AM]

I just wanted to hear from you

before I end my day. Good night,

Bambam.

 

Bambam holds his breath.

 

**me**

[Thu, Nov. 4, 2:04AM]

good night~

 

He stares at the “read” sign for a good five minutes before turning off his phone and sinking his face into his pillow. What the heck. That was so _weird_. He told himself that it wouldn’t be a good idea to get involved with Im Jaebum, who is not only _eight_ whole years older, but also way out of his league. While he supposes it would be harmless if they became friends, he knows that it’s impossible to be “friends.” Not when they’ve had that night together, where the attraction had been loud and clear. Bambam isn’t dumb. They’re romantic interests. That fact hangs in front of Bambam’s eyes and it obviously does for Jaebum too.

 

Is Bambam dumb enough to let Jaebum continue his advances, to wherever he wants them to be?

 

Debatable.

 

-

 

Bambam starts getting suspiciously protective of his phone, always snatching it back when someone “just needs to search something up” whereas before he could care less if someone opened up his camera roll and swiped through all the embarrassing selfies he’s taken. This leads to Yugyeom ratting him out to all their friends, spreading rumors that Bambam probably found himself a boy and is trying to hide said boy. He backs it up with what he calls evidence, aka straight lies.

 

“ – And then he just locked himself in his room, talking to this guy _all night_ ,” Yugyeom throws his hands and leans back into his seat, crossing his arms and looking smug as Jimin, Changkyun, and Minghao all squeal with excitement. Changkyun starts making his iconic creeper face, complete with the greasy wiggly eyebrows.

 

“I didn’t talk to him all night!” Bambam exclaims.

 

“But you talked to him. At night,” Jimin puckers her lips, making kissy faces.

 

“I talk to you guys at ass o’clock in the morning, too; it doesn’t mean anything!”

 

“And what else?” Minghao asks Yugyeom through his food, pointedly ignoring Bambam’s ensuing fit at the table.

 

“And,” Yugyeom beckons them to come close, “his name is Jaebum.” There’s a chorus of oooh’s and ahhh’s as Bambam plants his face onto the table, giving up on trying to stop Yugyeom. They’re not taking his words for any credit anyway, completely relying on Yugyeom for the juicy details. “Do any of you guys know a Jaebum?”

 

“Is he our age?” Jimin asks, to which Yugyeom shakes his head. “Wow, a _senior_ , oh my god!” She reaches across the table to smack Bambam, accentuating her excitement. “Our Bamie’s first boyfriend and it’s an older guy! If he’s older, I might know a guy who knows a guy who knows a Jaebum.”

 

“I might know a guy who knows a guy who knows a Jaebum, too,” Changkyun helpfully adds. “Or actually, I should just ask Won _ho_ hyung; he’s got the deets on literally every hot boy on campus down to their dick size.”

 

To this, Minghao raises an eyebrow, “Should you really be calling your roommate a hoe.”

 

Changkyun shrugs, “it’s a really impressive list.”

 

“You should ask your group, Seventeen, and see if they know,” Yugyeom smiles while Minghao grimaces.

 

“Can you not refer to my group as Seventeen? They decided on the group name before I could literally count to seventeen in Korean.”

 

The four of them are so busy gossiping they’ve forgotten both their lunches and Bambam. Bambam, whose head is still mostly on the table, has angled himself well to hide the fact that he’s on his phone under the table, smiling into his arm.

 

**me**

[Wed, Nov. 10, 12:08PM]

hyung, my friends are being mean to me TT

 

**Im Jaebum**

[Wed, Nov. 10, 12:10PM]

turn on your location, I’ll go fight them

 

**me**

[Wed, Nov. 10, 12:11PM]

ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

 

Bambam snickers, imagining all of them shitting their pants at the sight of an angry Jaebum. From what he’s seen, Jaebum’s already teeter tottering between the line of chic businessman and burly loan shark. He’ll do his friends a favor and save them. Cause he loves them or whatever.

 

**me**

[Wed, Nov. 10, 12:12PM]

it’s okay, don’t scare them

have you eaten?

 

**Im Jaebum**

[Wed, Nov. 10, 12:12PM]

no, I’m in a meeting

 

**me**

[Wed, Nov. 10, 12:13PM]

shouldn’t you pay attention???

 

**Im Jaebum**

[Wed, Nov. 10, 12:12PM]

it’s boring.

did you eat?

 

At this, Bambam lifts his head up to shove the remaining sandwich in his mouth. He’s chewing and typing up a reply when suddenly his phone vibrates, cutting the laughter around him abruptly and turning all eyes towards him. He swallows the dry bread when he sees Yugyeom eyeing the phone criminally in his right hand.

 

“Bambam? Who’s that?” Yugyeom smiles sweetly. Bambam smiles back, twice as sweet.

 

“Work.”

 

Everyone at the table has on their fakest smiles. And right as the internal alarm bells ring at Jimin’s darting eyes, Yugyeom has shouted, “Pounce!” and tickled him without mercy. Bambam fights a losing battle, squirming into the corner of the cushioned seats as Yugyeom attacks his sides and Minghao grabs onto his phone. The only thing he can feel proud of is the fact that it took two people to get him to cave. Even so, he watches with satisfaction when Minghao is unable to get through the security despite Yugyeom’s many attempts at guessing the password.

 

“You changed it?” Yugyeom stares at Bambam’s phone in disbelief. “You literally had the same one for two years!”

 

The phone vibrates again, the screen lighting up with the notification. It really is from Bambam’s workplace.

 

Jimin crinkles her nose, “I don’t believe him – I bet it was someone else before this.”

 

Bambam has class, so he’s the first one to leave their little luncheon, still having to shout back that he doesn’t have a boyfriend to his untrusting friends. Despite being twenty years old, he’s truly never had a real boyfriend. It’s not that he’s unattractive (Bambam snorts at the thought); it’s rather quite the opposite. Ever since his massive glow-up in between his freshman year and his sophomore year, he’s been turning more heads than he can count. He carries himself well: cute, flamboyant, and unapologetic. It’s just that Bambam has been more dedicated to building his career than anything else. He pretends to have it easy, but it’s a lot of running around swap meets to find the perfect fabric that doesn’t exist, watching the instructor rip apart his designs, failing to construct the patterns to his visions, and pleading acquaintances to work for his show. Any prize money that he wins, he uses for the next showcase. In other words, he’s scraping by.

 

So he’s been on random dates, gone out to clubs, harbored crushes that didn’t go anywhere until the infatuation extinguished. Besides, there’s the infamous Yugyeom Hurdle. While Bambam is free to get intimate with anyone he wants, the moment he tells Yugyeom that he _might_ like this guy Yugyeom doesn’t play any games. This guy better be prepared to protect Bambam at all costs and love him right or Yugyeom and the Gang will have some business to take care of. (It’s mostly Jimin doing all the work while Yugyeom and whoever else came to tag along hype her up in the back. It’s a tried and true method. Works 100% of the time.) The only reason they’re so interested in Bambam and his “mystery man” is because he’s being secretive. If it’s any usual crush, it would’ve followed the normal sequence of Bambam lurking on their social media, sending lots of pictures, and boasting about what a good time they had. It’s supposed to be _sickeningly_ excessive, even if it’s just “listen, he waved to me first and I waved back, do you think that means something?”

 

Jaebum feels like a dirty secret. It’s heavily founded in their age gap, and Bambam for once doesn’t know what to do about it. He doesn’t know how the others would react – okay, maybe he does know. He knows that the moment he reveals that not only is Jaebum 28, he’s also Im Jaebum, director of Im Financial Group. The blaringly obvious question then, is: “what is he doing, fooling around with a boy like you?” Bambam doesn’t want to hear the answer, afraid that it may be true to his suspicions. He looks like a “pretty, young thing.” And what do rich, bored men do with pretty, young things? Bambam purses his lips and tosses the thought away.

 

At this point, the only safe place where he doesn’t have anyone hounding him on his love life like it was the next hot drama is at the pushBUTTON office. There, the older women have taken to calling him the baby of the team, and so he does his best to act cute and bring them coffee to get on their good side. He doesn’t really want to be using that god-awful baby tone all the time, but it’s okay for now. It gets him an hour off of tracing patterns and running errands.

 

Bambam’s favorite noona so far is Nana, or Im Jinah, the fashion editor. She’s just – cool. Stylish, beautiful, and cold. There’s a lot to admire from her, even if she only has two switches: professional mode and I-don’t-know-her mode. Bambam’s only heard rumors about her wild rampages, having been at the office for barely a week. Today, when he enters her office with a stack of papers, he finds her lying on her modern L-shaped couch, holding a glass of wine. Her assistant, Hani, is holding onto the bottle.

 

“Ah, the new kid,” Nana slurs, nudging her glass in his direction. “Close the door, would you? Can’t have the old hag find out I’m drinking.”

 

“Please stop drinking, there’s so much for you to do,” Hani pleads.

 

“I have you,” Nana swats her hand.

 

Bambam places the papers down on a table (along with all the other stacks of papers) and explains that they’re the new looks the team of stylists have come up with for the spring and summer collection. Some of them include pieces from other brands. “We have a feature in Elle Korea in two months, and this one was the favorite for the shoot.”

 

“Yeah?” Nana absent-mindedly hums. She tilts her glass towards Hani, who sits still and refuses to pour more wine until a threat about making her forge Nana’s signature on all the paperwork is made. “I wish I had a man…”

 

Bambam and Hani look at each other. “We should go, before she starts crying about being single,” Hani stage whispers, getting up from her seat. Bambam hesitantly nods, following her on the way to the door.

 

“New kid, c’mere.”

 

Bambam whips his head towards Hani’s retreating figure only to have the door shut on him with a finality he’s not sure if he should be afraid of. Well, the only thing he could be missing out on out there is running more errands so…it shouldn’t be too bad. Nana sits up and sets her glass down, patting the seat next to her. Bambam sits down rigidly, back straight and knees pushed together.

 

“I need a fresh pair of eyes. Tell me honestly – do I look old?”

 

“Not a day over 25!” Bambam quips.

 

Nana groans, clutching her head with both of her hands. “Hani said I didn’t look a day over 21 yesterday!”

 

Bambam pulls out a strained smile. _Oops._ “You’re very beautiful regardless, sunbae–!”

 

“Stop, stop, I’ll sound old if you call me that.”

 

“…You’re very beautiful regardless, noona,” Bambam corrects, even if he thinks “noona” isn’t actually any better. “Any man would be a fool to pass you up.”

 

“Well then they’re all idiots,” Nana spits, and then launches into a story (collection of stories?) about all of her past experiences and relationships. They all sound extravagant and incredibly exciting, although some of them end up with her finding out there was another woman in the picture. Bambam sits quietly on the couch, finding absolutely no chance to talk. Every time he thought it would be appropriate to add a comment, Nana cuts him off into yet another story. He wonders if this is what Hani deals with on a daily basis and suddenly feels very sympathetic. Bambam starts tuning out and daydreaming about half an hour in, or however long it has been since she’s started. He’s been too afraid to take out his phone to check the time.

 

“…And then there was this man who was six years my senior – I think I had the best time with him out of everyone now that I think about it,” Nana swirls the wine in her hand, sighing forlornly. Bambam’s attention comes right back, the light shining in his eyes again.

 

“What happened?” Bambam asks. Nana looks at him for a second, noticing the change in behavior.

 

“Quit. He was the editor here before I took over. Had bigger things for him than in Korea.”

 

“But he was good to you while he was here?”

 

Nana nodded, looking over at her desk and chair. “The best. He was a klutz, but he got the job done and he got it done _well_. I idolized him, crushed on him pretty hard while I worked here with him. He was kind to me too, and protected me from the malicious girls at the office when our secret came out.”

 

Bambam frowned, “He must’ve been popular.” Nana was quiet, so he asked another question. “Did the…age and seniority bother you? Did his maturity make you feel inferior?”

 

She laughs, “I didn’t care what people thought. And age doesn’t matter – everyone’s equal and immature in love; you take the journey together…” She trails off, but snaps up at Bambam a second later. “Or at least, it _should_ be.” Nana places her hand on his, which shocks him. He hadn’t realized when they were balled up so tightly on his coat. He lets go of his fists and smiles at Nana, who gives one back easily. When she makes a motion to reach for the bottle again, Bambam quickly grabs it first.

 

“I really think you should stop, noona.”

 

“It’s like, 10% actual wine and 90% apple juice. Hani thinks she’s slick but first of all, the color isn’t even the same.”

 

Surprised, Bambam’s grip loosens up and the bottle is in Nana’s hands. She forgoes the glass and just drinks from the bottle straight up.

 

“All this talk has gotten me worn out. Get out, I’m sleeping.”

 

Bambam gently closes the door behind him and checks his phone. There’s quite a few messages – and god, he’s been in there for nearly an hour and a half. Hopefully the senior pattern maker hasn’t been looking for him – he was in the middle of making copies before he was tasked with the “small favor” of delivering some papers. As he walks out to the main room, Hani spots him immediately and rushes over. She apologizes for leaving him in there, but “I’ve heard the same stories a million times!”

 

He gives her an amused smile, “It’s okay. Since it’s my first time hearing them, it wasn’t so bad.” Bambam heads over to his station, freezing when he sees his boss for the week angrily tapping her foot. All the interns rotate shadowing certain seniors biweekly and Bambam…really should have finished his work by now. It begins with a scolding, but softens into an encouragement to work harder when Bambam pouts and begs for forgiveness. It also helps that one of the stylists yells over her desk, “Don’t scold the baby!”

 

After a lot of catching up, Bambam ends the day of school and work pretty well. Since he’s in a good mood, he even goes to watch Yugyeom practice and enjoys embarrassing the hell out of him in front of his peers by being THE best cheerleader of all time. He waits for Yugyeom to wrap up and say goodbye to everyone before they head home together. Yugyeom pushes him around the entire way to the car as revenge.

 

“Could you _not_! I just met Ten-hyung and he’s _cool_! I want to look respectable in front of him.”

 

“Look respectable? Wow, at least Jungkook appreciates my presence!” Bambam crosses his arms.

 

Yugyeom splutters and backtracks, “That’s not what I meant! I appreciate you coming, too.”

 

That’s not a good enough apology for Bambam, so he decides to crank up the radio when he’s in the car, screaming the lyrics poorly on purpose. Except Yugyeom joins in, and all the cars around them roll up their windows to block out the screeching whenever they stop at a red light. It ends up being so much fun Bambam forgets why he did it in the first place.

 

They heat up some leftovers and have dinner together, where Yugyeom hands Bambam a flyer about hiring an assistant dance teacher for a beginner’s hip-hop class. Yugyeom says he’s thinking of trying for it, and Bambam furiously nods, telling him to go for it before someone else takes it. Bambam gets a call in the middle of their talk (mostly Yugyeom going “I don’t know” and Bambam going “You can do it!”) but he doesn’t want it to interrupt them. He’s about to slide his thumb over to the red side when the name flashing on the screen has his heart stopping. He looks incredulously at it as it continues to play Red Velvet’s “Russian Roulette” as his ringtone.

 

“Go ahead,” Yugyeom smiles. So Bambam picks up, but regrets it when he realizes he’ll have to take the call right here, in front of Yugyeom.

 

_Just act natural._

 

“Hello?”

 

“ _Bambam? Hey…”_

 

Bambam tries to hold in his shiver. Jaebum’s deep voice on the phone reminds him too much of That Night, especially with how close the sound is to his ear. The long-gone bruise from nearly a month ago feels like it’s back on his skin, phantom tingles crawling up his neck. Bambam switches the phone to the other ear, just to get away from it.

 

“ _Are you busy?_ ”

 

Bambam looks up at Yugyeom, who’s taking a sip of water as he goes through his social media. “No, what’s up, hyung?” Yugyeom doesn’t budge, which is a good sign.

 

“ _I’ve been thinking of you._ ”

 

Bambam’s heart thrashes against his chest and he nearly chokes on his own spit, eyes widening at the sudden confession. He bites his lip. After a few days of daily texts and friendly conversations, Bambam has forgotten about this frightfully honest, intense side of Jaebum.

 

“…Me too,” Bambam admits. He tries to sound casual, but he must’ve sound anything but, because it captures Yugyeom’s attention and he’s now looking at Bambam.

 

“ _I want to see you. Is that okay?_ ”

 

Bambam is twirling his finger around a loose thread on his shirt. He should stop doing that. His bank account won’t allow for another shopping spree for a long time. “Sure! I’ll just send over a selfie,” Bambam smiles to himself, attempting to break the tension. It works a little, because he can hear Jaebum’s airy laugh on the line and it makes him happy.

 

“ _That works too. But what I mean is – I want to see you in person. I want to take you out.”_

 

 _On a date?_ Bambam blushes at the thought. He tells his other self to shut up. It’s not a date. “Yeah, we can – we can hang out.” At this point, Bambam’s poor shirt is probably ruined. He can deal with it later, maybe toss it at Jimin with some bribery. Jaebum’s silent for a while, so Bambam worries his lip in anticipation, wondering if he’s said the wrong thing.

 

“ _Yeah…hang out…we can do that._ ” Jaebum sounds disappointed. “ _How’s this Saturday sound?_ ”

 

Bambam jolts – that’s in three days. That’s pretty soon. But he’s not busy, so there’s no reason to say no… “Saturday sounds good.”

 

“ _Okay, I’ll pick you up at 5._ ”

 

Since Jaebum already seems to have a plan in mind, Bambam doesn’t argue and agrees. Finally, he sees Yugyeom boring a hole into his soul, eyes lighted with accusation. Panicked, Bambam scrambles to end the call. “Cool! I’ll see you then. I actually have to go now so bye, hyung!”

 

“ _Bye, Bam–!”_

 

Bambam hangs up on Jaebum and sets his phone aside, cooling his face into a neutral expression. He faces Yugyeom, “So…about that dance job?”

 

Yugyeom deadpans, “Nice try.” Bambam mentally prepares himself. The chair scrapes on floor as Yugyeom enthusiastically scoots in. “So who was that? Was that your Jaebum hyung?”

 

“No,” Bambam frowns, looking away. Yugyeom enters his line of sight.

 

“Are you going on a date?”

 

“No,” Bambam turns the other way, Yugyeom following him. It’s really not a date, okay! He clearly said “hang out” earlier. Stupid Yugyeom.

 

“Is Jaebum the guy you were with when I was looking for Jungkook?”

 

The question is so sudden and painfully _right_ that Bambam’s mouth opens, speechless. At this, Yugyeom’s eyes widen – he had a hunch, but wasn’t actually planning to be right. He gasps exaggeratedly and jumps in his seat. This was too good.

 

“Oh my god, so you _did_ get his number that night! You sneaky bastard, how long have you been going out with him behind my back?”

 

Bambam squeaks, unsure of how to get out of this mess. With some more pestering though, Bambam gives in and tells him half of the story, minus all of the inner conflicts, of course. “I really didn’t get it then – but remember the day of my interview? I met him again half an hour before it and he made me give him my number.” Yugyeom demands for more details, so Bambam reluctantly gives out what he can, all while shrinking into his seat and hiding his face into his hands. By the end of the interrogation, Yugyeom flops back in his seat in wonder.

 

“Wow, he must be really into you.”

 

“No – not at all,” Bambam denies, though his voice is muffled by his hands.

 

“But it must’ve been like, two weeks or something between our outing and your interview right? And you said he waited for you to call that _entire time_?”

 

“Stop, that makes me sound like such a jerk.”

 

“I don’t know man, with a passionate first meeting like that I’d be hung up about it too.”

 

“You don’t know if he’s just saying that. He could be lying,” Bambam weakly replies. Even he doubts his words.

 

“So he’s not at our school right?”

 

Bambam shakes his head, “No. He’s graduated.” Well. Graduated a long time ago.

 

“Oh that makes sense. He did look kind of old.”

 

Bambam almost falls out of his chair – “He’s not _that_ old!”

 

Yugyeom raises an eyebrow, “Well, yeah. I just meant he looked a little more mature than we do, like, maybe two or three years older.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Since it’s been a fruitful day of investigation, Yugyeom lets Bambam go. Bambam sullenly cleans up their plates and heads to his room. To clear up his head, he goes online and looks at fashion blogs, magazines, and videos. After slamming his hand on the table a few times at the prices of the things he likes, he switches to looking at memes instead. At least that’s free. His phone vibrates.

 

**Im Jaebum**

[Wed, Nov. 10, 10:45PM]

this reminded me of you

_See attachment:_ [x]

 

Bambam scoffs, but it still puts a smile on his face. It’s a picture of a baby snake.

 

**me**

[Wed, Nov. 10, 10:46PM]

very funny >:(

 

**Im Jaebum**

[Wed, Nov. 10, 10:46PM]

ㅋㅋ

 

Before he washes up, he gets an idea. Bambam heads over to wherever the best lighting is and pulls up the camera. He closes his eyes, puts on a soft smile and cups his cheek with the other hand. When he checks the picture, it looks good. Bambam goes to shower and brush up for real, then throws himself onto his bed.

 

**me**

[Wed, Nov. 10, 11:03PM]

if you miss me so much, look at this~

 

 _See attachment:_ [x]

 

There’s no response for a while, so he sets his phone aside and works on a few assignments until about 2AM. Bambam checks his texts with Jaebum one last time, and although Jaebum’s seen the picture, he doesn’t say anything. Bambam tosses his phone onto his nightstand. Whatever.

 

-

 

Between focusing on school, running errands, and still being a good friend, Bambam hasn’t had time for probably the most important thing of all: picking out an outfit for his _hang out_ with Jaebum. The worst part is that he doesn’t know where they’re going – Jaebum said he just wanted to have a fun, casual time, and not to worry about it. And Bambam really doesn’t want to be judgmental, but with the looks of Jaebum and who he is, a “casual time” can be anywhere from his own personal definition of pizza and karaoke to a night cruise ship. Bambam hopes it’s not the latter – he seriously can’t afford to split the cost of that. Or, he’s just being paranoid with all of the dramas Yugyeom’s made him watch.

 

Bambam gets home at around 4PM, and luckily Yugyeom’s not home to make fun of him pulling out his entire closet onto his bed. After five outfits and two different makeup looks, he settles on his first choice for everything and twirls around the mirror, making sure he looks perfect. At 4:50PM, he decides he would look better if he straightens his hair to the side. He’ll be damned if he’s not the cutest boy on earth today. Not that it matters or anything, he’s not trying to impress anybody. Bambam miraculously manages to finish right on the dot, just as Jaebum texts him that he’s outside. He shoves his wallet, keys, and phone into his light denim jeans and runs out.

 

Bambam doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it’s definitely not a goddamn Bugatti sitting right in front of his house. As he approaches it with wavering steps, he also doesn’t expect Jaebum to get out of his car and open the door for him. It’s all way too impressive. He’s probably surrounded by a zillion zeros behind the won sign.

 

 _Oh my god, oh my god, save me_.

 

Jaebum has on the warmest smile as he greets Bambam. “You look cute.”

 

Bambam decides to gloat on this one, “I know.” He has on a fluffy white sweater with the embellished collar of a button-up peaking out. It mostly swallows his frame, but is tucked in at the front of his denim. Following his long legs is a pair of brown boots. So what if he owns ten pairs of boots? It’s autumn and he’s a fashionista – sue him. His makeup is sparkly and pink.

 

He takes this time to eye Jaebum himself, starting from his loaded ears down to his white dress shirt, black slacks and leather boots. “You look good too, hyung. I like your shirt,” he smiles, poking at one of the patterns on his shoulder. From far away, it could pass as a minimalistic white shirt with black polka dots. They’re actually little cat heads.

 

As he draws his hand away, Jaebum reaches out, Bambam’s eyes instinctively following the movement. The initial touch of skin feels like a shock of electricity and Bambam’s eyes fly up to Jaebum’s calm, unreadable face, lips parting in wonder as he feels the soft pad of Jaebum’s thumb stroking his cheekbone once, twice. Then, the rest of his fingers move to curve around his ear.

 

“Stray hair,” Jaebum mumbles, drawing his lips in to bite at them. Bambam blinks then feels his entire body heating up as his brain catches up to what just happened.

 

“…Thanks,” he breathes, pretending to fix his hair some more to allow for his sweater paws to cover his face. These tricks – Jaebum does them so smoothly and unabashedly that it leaves him breathless. Bambam can’t even tell whether it’s all calculated to leave him swooning like this or if Jaebum’s merely truly this blunt and obvious about his attraction. Either way, Bambam firmly holds onto the fact that they’re just hanging out, in a friendly hyung-dongsaeng way. If he thinks of anything else, he’ll probably have to throw himself out of the car to rest in peace.

 

Other than the mundane exchange of “how are you” and “I’m fine,” the rest of the drive is quiet for five minutes. Bambam realizes he still doesn’t know where they’re going, but it might be too late to ask. He drums his fingers on his thighs for a bit, itching to have a song to listen to. When he’s with Yugyeom, the radio is always on. The contrast of the silence in Jaebum’s fancy car with the boom of the music in Yugyeom’s hand-me-down Toyota leaves him on edge.

 

Soon enough, Bambam realizes he can recognize all these streets – in fact, they’re heading for the movies. As Jaebum parks his car and leads Bambam to the ticket box, Bambam feels the tension in his shoulders relax. The movies are good – it’s casual, it’s familiar, and it’s something he’s bound to loosen up in. No matter no he’s with, Bambam just can’t help leaning over and making some commentary or asking for clarification since his Korean could always be improved. Plus, it’ll be dark. No one has to know if Bambam wants to analyze Jaebum’s entire outfit and admire his looks.

 

“Have you seen any of these yet?” Jaebum asks as he looks through the movie posters.

 

“No, I haven’t been out for a while,” Bambam shakes his head.

 

They consider a few titles together until Bambam ultimately decides to watch a zombie thriller. If he remembers correctly, it had a lot of good reviews.

 

“Hyung, let’s watch this one –!” Bambam turns to where Jaebum was right next to him, only to find himself standing there alone and Jaebum already pulling out his card for tickets. Bambam dashes over too late, pouting as Jaebum wordlessly holds out his ticket with a smile. Bambam whines about splitting the cost the entire way to the concession station. “Well then, I’m going to buy the drinks and popcorn!”

 

Jaebum amusedly listens to his chirping, his eyes crinkling into little slits as Bambam points to this and that, leaning over the counter to direct the cashier to what he wants.

 

“Would you like any candy to go with your purchase?” The cashier asks.

 

“Candy?” Bambam lights up. “What do you have?”

 

“Right this way please.”

 

Bambam happily follows him to the display of candy. Halfway there, he suddenly halts and whips around, narrowing his eyes and making the “I’m watching you” motions at Jaebum, who responds by innocently throwing his hands up. Satisfied, Bambam makes the rest of the journey and gushes at all the different kinds of gummies and chocolate. The poor child is so distracted and torn over whether to buy just one box or two boxes that he doesn’t notice a second worker coming to man the register.

 

“Can I help you?”

 

Jaebum glances at Bambam and huffs out a laugh at how busy he is. “Yeah, I’ll pay for everything on that queue.” He sees the concession employee hand Bambam two boxes of candy. “And two boxes of candy.”

 

A few seconds later, Bambam prances over and shoves the candy in front of his face. “Hyung, do you like chocolate-covered gummy bears or sweet tarts?”

 

“Both.”

 

Bambam clicks his tongue, “No, no, we should only share one or our teeth will rot and we’ll start looking like those zombies!”

 

“Tough luck for us, then,” Jaebum shrugs, a glint shining in his eyes as a slow cat-like smile spreads across his face. Bambam raises an eyebrow, frowning. He catches on when he sees the workers hand Jaebum the popcorn and drinks.

 

“No…” Bambam whispers in betrayal, glaring up at his hyung as Jaebum guides him forward to the theater room by the small of his back. “You said you’d let me pay for it!”

 

“I never said that,” Jaebum responds. “Just think of today as my treat.”

 

Bambam is secretly pleased, but he continues to be annoying about it just so it won’t happen again. When Jaebum deflects all of his arguments, he lets out a bratty little “humph!” He turns his nose up, “Okay, then don’t complain when I get used to it and stop bringing my wallet!”

 

They take their seats at the center where the best view is. The ads have already started, so it won’t be long before the movie starts. As Bambam starts lowering down the cup holder on his right, Jaebum stops him.

 

“I’m left-handed.”

 

“Oh okay, I’ll use the left one too, then.”

 

Nothing separates their two seats other than the popcorn, which by the rate Jaebum is stuffing his face with, Bambam thinks it’ll be gone ten minutes into the movie. The lights dim into darkness, signifying the start of the movie. Bambam makes himself comfortable by opening the chocolate bears, making a small happy noise after biting a head off. The movie itself isn’t that scary, but it’s definitely gory and tense and he can’t help but pull some disgusted faces at the zombies running through the train. Without thinking, Bambam habitually leans over to his right, expecting to stop at an armrest. However, he simply falls over and almost dunks his elbow into the bag of popcorn.

 

“Sorry!” Bambam whispers.

 

“It’s okay; lean on me,” Jaebum moves closer and pulls him in. Their shoulders touch – but it’s an awkward angle and after hesitating for a moment, Bambam shifts so that his head can rest on part of Jaebum’s seat. From behind, they look like a couple. “Hey, want to play a game?”

 

Bambam looks up at Jaebum through the darkness, letting him continue.

 

“Let’s guess who’s going to die by the end of the movie.”

 

Bambam grins evilly, “How’d you know that was my favorite game?” So as the characters enter the screen, he and Jaebum take turns quietly making their guesses. When it becomes too predictable, Bambam suggests guessing _how_ they’d die too. They get a little too excited halfway through the movie, barely even paying attention to the plot, and get shushed by the row in front of them. They sink back into their chairs giggling; Bambam shoves three bears into his mouth to stop laughing.

 

A while later, only the main characters are left alive, and at this point Bambam has become too attached to them to want to guess who’s going to get bitten. Even though he knows all the good people die, he still complains to Jaebum when one guy makes the sacrifice to hold back all the zombies while the rest run.

 

“I’d never leave _my_ friends behind,” Bambam remarks.

 

Jaebum turns his head to look at him, watching the screen flash its cool colors on Bambam’s otherwise warm toned skin. “Who could you protect with those little arms of yours?”

 

“Well, I’d die trying.”

 

“What if you just hinder them?”

 

“It’s better than surviving alone – I don’t want to survive if it means being all by myself.”

 

Another character gets trapped within the train and is unable to make it out in time. “What if they want you to survive?”

 

Bambam smiles, eyes still on the screen. “Hyung, are you trying to convince fictional-me to live?” Jaebum just hums.

 

The rest of the movie flies by quickly, ending with those who they thought would live – dead. Overall it was a good film; Bambam felt himself getting emotional towards the end but reeled it back in with ease. He wasn’t a crier, and he definitely wasn’t going to display some waterworks in front of Jaebum. Bambam never actually got to open the sweet tarts, so he keeps it with him to take home while he helps Jaebum discard their trash. They head to Jaebum’s car while discussing their thoughts on the thriller.

 

“I have hands,” Bambam complains as the door is opened for him again. He huffs as he settles in quickly, pulling over his seatbelt while Jaebum makes the round towards the driver’s seat. Bambam pulls out his phone to check if he’s missed anything during the movie. And as he expected, there’s a few texts from Yugyeom.

 

**Yugyeommie**

[Sat, Nov. 13, 5:12PM]

where are you??

 

**Yugyeommie**

[Sat, Nov. 13, 5:30PM]

oh right your date

 

**Yugyeommie**

[Sat, Nov. 13, 6:01PM]

I’m out with Kookie

want me to buy you something to eat?

 

**me**

[Sat, Nov. 13, 7:10PM]

>:((((

STOP SAYING THAT

 

Since it’s nighttime and Jaebum hasn’t said anything about further plans, he assumes that Jaebum will drop him off at home.

 

**me**

[Sat, Nov. 13, 7:11PM]

yeah actually can you get me a

 

“I’m going to take you to one of my favorite restaurants. Is that okay?” Jaebum looks at him hopefully, hand on the gear.

 

 _Oh._ Bambam hits backspace on the text he was about to send. “Yeah, of course! I’ll pay for dinner then, cause you did for the movies.”

 

**me**

[Sat, Nov. 13, 7:13 PM]

no thanks

I’m out for dinner too

 

**Yugyeommie**

[Sat, Nov. 13, 7:13PM]

oooOOOOoooo

 

Yugyeom’s typing out a message, but Bambam doesn’t want to be rude and puts his phone away.

 

“I don’t think you can pay for dinner,” Jaebum says with a smirk. He looks like he wants to laugh.

 

“What do you mean?” Bambam exclaims. He shakes his little box of candy. “Look what you forced me into! It’s only fair I pay for dinner.” The shaking tarts seem to throw Jaebum over the edge, so he cracks up and holds onto the wheel. His mouth is wide open and all his teeth are on display, eyes disappearing into slits. Bambam starts laughing a little too, surprised that Jaebum, who usually looks so put together, has the _ugliest_ laugh Bambam has ever seen. It’s not bad though – loud, but charming.

 

“Okay, whatever you want.”

 

Satisfied, Bambam settles into his seat. Just before Jaebum starts the engine and drives them to their destination, a thought strikes him. Before he can really filter what he’s saying, he’s already giggling.

 

“A movie and a dinner? It’s like a date,” he jokes. Bambam waits for Jaebum to either say something back or laugh – but none of that happens. Instead, he freezes and his ears get red.

 

Bambam’s eyes widen, his smile dropping into an “o” as he finally realizes what he’s gotten himself into. Neither of them move, the thick silence weighing upon them as Bambam’s mind frantically screams “Date!” repeatedly. His heart beats wildly, and he draws in his fingers into his sweater to play with them nervously.

 

Jaebum clears his throat awkwardly and turns on the engine. “Let’s go.” He turns his head to look at Bambam, who instantly whips his head the other way to look out the window. He feels the burn of Jaebum’s gaze and bites his lip, desperately willing himself to calm down.

 

Ten minutes later, at a stoplight, Jaebum speaks up. “It doesn’t have to be a date if you don’t want it to. I’ll understand.” His voice is monotone, but his hard grip on the wheel and the tightness of his jaw gives away his distress, his disappointment. Bambam suddenly thinks of Nana, who had been strong and brave in every relationship she pursued. Despite getting hurt, she always managed to put herself together. Nana didn’t care what other people thought – because she valued herself and she trusted herself above all else.

 

 _“I had a good time,”_ she had said. “ _I do what I want. It’s all that matters.”_

 

“No…I don’t mind,” Bambam says softly. “It can be a date.”

 

The finality of it leaves them breathless. Jaebum looks visibly relieved and happy, trying to hold back from smiling too hard. He also swears he doesn’t step on the gas in excitement. But to be fair, Bambam is excited too. It feels good to give in and to know that whatever it is they have, it’s mutual.

 

The drive is in the opposite direction and at least twice as far. While they chat amicably, Bambam notices that they’ve past his and Yugyeom’s apartment, then further up to where he’s unfamiliar. As the streets gradually get wider and cleaner, the buildings taller and brighter, Bambam feels his stomach dropping in a different way. He presses up against the window – which Jaebum mistakes his dread as amazement – and gulps as they pass even the Han River. Bambam still looks stricken as Jaebum stops in front of a tower that reaches as far up as the sky. It’s absolutely beautiful, even from what his eyes can see just outside the door. The lobby is lavishly decorated with fine pieces of art – sculptures of marble lining the carpet and fresh flowers in shiny vases up on display.

 

Everything from there happens in a blur. From Jaebum tossing the keys of his Bugatti to the valet, to a uniformed man opening the door for him with his head bowed, and even up to the fact that there’s literally a man hired to _push buttons for them_ in the elevator all make Bambam’s head spin. As he ascends up the infinite floors, his soul remains stuck in the dirt. For all his literacy in high fashion, Bambam is a _complete_ stranger to luxury. While he does aspire to reach that level of success one day as the creative director of either his own brand or Saint Laurent, as of right now, he is still just twenty-year-old Bambam, intern extraordinaire at pushBUTTON with knockoffs on his back and maybe 50 won in the bank account. (He’s been avoiding looking at his account after sending in the check for his college tuition and rent. It’s been a hard life.)

 

After reaching the top of the tower, Jaebum leads Bambam forward with a hand on his waist (wait – Bambam looks at the hand curled possessively around him; when did that happen?) and enters the huge golden doors without even so much a bat of a lash at the graceful bows of the maître d’hôtel and other waiters. Bambam fights back the urge to bow back – it’s a habit from always being the youngest and the lowest rank.

 

His eyes haphazardly glance around the white tables and candle-lit centerpieces. The women are in their formal evening gowns and the men have on suits, or at least a dress shirt and matching blazer. Bambam sweats. He can see Jovani and Vivienne Westwood and – and he looks down at himself. He sees H&M. Bambam’s cheeks turn hot with embarrassment, feeling incredibly under-dressed and out of place. Jaebum, of course, fits in just fine. He was chic casual at the movies, but the change of setting at this five-star restaurant has made his outfit look expensive yet youthful.

 

Bambam is knocked out of his stupor when Jaebum starts leading him again, following the headwaiter. He squeaks, faltering in his steps as he feels every pair of eyes bearing holes into his cheap clothes. He hisses, “Jaebum-hyung! What are we doing here?”

 

Jaebum raises an eyebrow at him like he’s stupid. “To eat.” He laughs soundlessly at Bambam’s red and bewildered face.

 

“Are you looking at what I’m wearing? You should’ve at least warned me!” Not that he owned any high-end clothing. But at least he could’ve looked the part.

 

Jaebum takes a long look at Bambam, up and down with a dark glint that disappears when his eyes rest on Bambam’s face again. Bambam feels a new wave of heat rising to his cheeks. He definitely set himself up for that. “You look good to me.”

 

Bambam splutters, looking around at the people here once more. “No, not your pervy opinion! The dress code! Everyone’s wearing – what, Givenchy and Versace and that beautiful red dress right there? It’s Dior.”

 

“You know all of that?”

 

“Of course I do!” Bambam whines. “I study fashion. God, everyone must be giving me the stink eye.”

 

“Well, where we’re going, I’ll be the only one who can look at you,” Jaebum says lowly, emphasizing his words with a squeeze of his waist. Speechless, Bambam stares at Jaebum as he enters a private room with a gorgeous view of the river and city lights. They take their seats, and Bambam is in awe at how soft and cushiony the chair is. Amongst other things, his curious eyes also travel over the interior design. In fact, it looks too big for just a table of two.

 

They make their order of a three-course meal, and Bambam fakes his way through knowing what he’s saying by making use of all the time he spent in the past looking up French designers. Feeling overwhelmed, he excuses himself to the restroom to wash his hands. When he steps in though, his jaw drops. He scrambles for his phone, snapping a picture of the restroom and pulling up Yugyeom’s contact in record speed.

 

**me**

[Sat, Nov. 13, 7:47PM]

KIM YUGYEOM

HELP

 

 _See attachment_ [x]

 

Bambam taps his foot anxiously, waiting for Yugyeom to notice him. When a middle-aged man walks in and frowns at him though, he quickly traps himself inside a stall. Bambam wants to cry. Even the toilet is beautiful.

 

**Yugyeommie**

[Sat, Nov. 13, 7:50PM]

what’s going on are you okay?

WAIT WHAT THE FUCK

WHAT THE FUCK

 

**me**

[Sat, Nov. 13, 7:51PM]

RIGHT? SLHGLASKG

 

**Yugyeommie**

[Sat, Nov. 13, 7:51PM]

IS THAT A SPA OR SOME SHIT

 

**me**

[Sat, Nov. 13, 7:52PM]

IT’S A RESTAURANT’S /RESTROOM/

 

**Yugyeommie**

[Sat, Nov. 13, 7:53PM]

WHAT THE FUCK

EVEN THE URINAL’S GLORIOUS

 

**me**

[Sat, Nov. 13, 7:53PM]

IT’S LIKE PEEING IN THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH

 

**Yugyeommie**

[Sat, Nov. 13, 7:54PM]

/this/ is where your date is????

 

**me**

[Sat, Nov. 13, 7:55PM]

yeah and I’m freaking out

but I’ve been here too long

I need to get out before Jaebum hyung thinks I’m pooping

 

Bambam forces himself out the restroom and slinks back into the private room, where Jaebum’s attention is instantly on him. Instead of being at the table like Bambam expected, Jaebum is leaning by the glass wall, half-turned towards Bambam as he walks over. With the dark, sparkling backdrop of the city lights and the warm, soft glow of the rose-scented candles around them, Jaebum looks like a wild dream. It’s the kind of dream that’s embarrassingly romantic and tantalizingly sweet, where one would laugh at in front of their friends but sigh wistfully in private.

 

“Come,” Jaebum beckons. Of course, he doesn’t have to ask. Bambam is already magnetically pulled towards him.

 

When Bambam is within reach, Jaebum closes the final distance by looping an arm around his tiny waist. They lean side by side as they enjoy the view. Bambam tries to take this time to relax a little and put himself together. It’s better this way with a distraction. Off center and to the left is a building that’s taller than the rest around it, shining white even in the distance.

 

Bambam presses a finger towards it, “Is that where you work, hyung? At the very top?”

 

“Mm, something like that, yeah.”

 

After a bit of silence – “Wow, it’s like that scene in Lion King where Mufasa shows Simba his kingdom.”

 

Jaebum cracks open that loud, jaw-retreating laughter of his again, and while Bambam also laughs at the image he came up with, he almost planted his face on that very building with the way Jaebum had launched himself forward to brace his left hand on the glass.

 

“What – no! I don’t own anything yet; my father’s still the CEO. Says he wants to see me settle down first,” he explains with an amused smile.

 

“Oh sure,” Bambam nods. “But how cool is it that you get to see your own mark on the world like this, up this high?” Suddenly, he notices that the building is, while still to the left, closer to his eye than before. “Wait. _Wait_. Does the top floor of this tower _spin_?”

 

“Yes; if we stay long enough we can see most of Seoul.”

 

“What!” Bambam sucks in a breath. “This is too much, hold me, hyung.”

 

“But I am,” Jaebum grins, wiggling his fingers.

 

“Well then hold me tighter! This is ridiculous! This restaurant is ridiculous! _You’re_ ridiculous! I’ve never even touched a real diamond in my life and there you go just dropping me into a paradise where people drink out of gold cups and poop on thrones.” Bambam dramatically wails. “And I haven’t even tasted the food yet!”

 

Jaebum lets out a hearty laugh, throwing his head back. The last thing Bambam sees before he’s being cradled into Jaebum’s neck, cheek squished against the cat shirt, are his glittering eyes glazed with affection. Bambam returns the hug, smiling shyly as Jaebum squeezes him, breathing out, “You’re so _cute_.”

 

And for the record, the food is incredible. After the waiter walks in on them randomly cuddling by the wall, they scramble to get back to their seats. The moment Bambam picks up his spoon, he never puts it down. The seared scallops have a beautiful brown crust at the top and are sweet and tender in the middle. The filet mignon melts in his mouth and the balsamic glaze brings the right amount of tanginess into the dish. But it’s really the crème brûlée that steals his heart.

 

“Hyung,” Bambam gasps across the table, eyes glued to the half-gone dessert. “There are people out there who are going to die before they ever taste this in their lives…”

 

Jaebum continues eating. “Oh?”

 

“It’s an injustice. Incredibly cruel. Absolutely unfathomable.” And then he proceeds to wolf it down unapologetically. Jaebum looks pleased by the end of their meal, and they spend a little time sharing different parts of themselves before the waiter comes in to take away their plates. The check is presented to Jaebum, who takes it between his two fingers naturally with a lazy kind of nonchalance and disinterested eyes. But suddenly, he snaps his eyes up and the wicked smirk on his face has Bambam swallowing in apprehension.

 

“Now, if I remember correctly, didn’t you say you’d treat hyung for dinner?” His toothy smile – which had looked so charming before – is now menacing and downright _evil_ in Bambam’s poor, frightened big eyes. Bambam’s mind races, calculating all of the money that went to his stomach and how many hours it’d take to convince his boss to hand over a three-week advance on his payment when he’d worked for literally only a week an a half.

 

Bambam rises from his chair, taking a moment to mentally prepare himself before bursting into a bright smile and skipping over to Jaebum. “Ahh,” he whines cutely, even throwing in a shake of his shoulders. “Can’t you pay for me just one more time, hyung? Jaebum hyung?”

 

Jaebum’s smirk quickly turns into a disbelieving and embarrassed open-mouth grin – “Oh my god.”

 

“Please?” Bambam pouts adorably. When Jaebum just continues staring at him incredulously, he forces himself to swallow his pride and just _go for the kill_. He makes himself as small as possible, shrinking his shoulders inward and pulling his sweater paws up to his face, leaving only sad, shining puppy eyes for Jaebum to guiltily stare back at. “ _Please?_ ”

 

Jaebum’s mouth is still agape after a too-long pause, and Bambam thinks he might’ve broken Jaebum. But even after that thought crosses his mind and another moment passes by with nothing from the both of them but a burning gaze, Bambam starts to feel shame creep up to him and flushes under Jaebum’s scrutiny. The red follows up to his ears and he half-turns away, his eyes darting around the room to avoid Jaebum’s eyes.

 

“Fine, I’m sorry, I’ll pay. Just – just stop looking at me so intensely, hyung, _gosh_ ,” he covers his entire face. He knew he hated acting cute for a reason. Bambam can hear Jaebum getting out of his seat and in the next second, he feels Jaebum trying to pull his hands away. Bambam doesn’t relent – but Jaebum is much stronger, and before he knows it, both his wrists are pulled away from him and his immediate line of sight is the older man.

 

“Baby…” Jaebum murmurs. Bambam bites his lip, balling up his hands, and his knees buckle at the same pet name from that night. But Jaebum’s got a hold of him. Jaebum’s got him steady. “I’m just teasing you. And that’s not possible, Bam. Not when you’ve asked me _not_ to stop when we first met. And I swear – I haven’t been able to for a single moment.”

 

There it is again. The direct and painfully raw words that leave Bambam speechless and blank, completely swept off his feet without even a moment’s warning. It’s things like these that make it so hard for him to think logically about what he’s getting himself into and what he’s allowing to happen. Bambam _always_ feels like he’s in the spotlight around Jaebum, which makes him nervous and keeps him on his toes. He hates that it makes him feel vulnerable and uncharacteristically shy – that everything he does doesn’t go unnoticed, that he is being _wanted_ at an intensity that all of his previous potential partners combined can’t even amount to. But the attention feels good – good enough that he might get addicted, might want to keep Jaebum around his finger like this for a long, long time.

 

The check is settled quickly, a casual affair for Jaebum who is a regular here and has a well reputation. Jaebum holds his hand as they walk out, his head held high while Bambam hurdles behind him closely, reminded of the difference in their places as he sees all of the fanciness surrounding him again. It’s a little bit past ten when they get in the car and Jaebum softly says that he’ll take him home.

 

Being left-handed seems to be an advantage for Jaebum in this case – he’s much more relaxed in his seat now and his right hand still firmly holds onto Bambam’s contrasting gentle grasp. There’s a slow ballad playing quietly in the background as per request, all of the radio stations switching to more mellow and sweet songs to capture the wistfulness of an autumn night. Bambam switches between watching the lights blur by through the window and staring in wonder at their linked hands. Jaebum’s hands are surprisingly soft and maybe even a little bit smaller than his. (Bambam has a hunch that Jaebum wouldn’t appreciate him pointing that out.) But they feel reliable and firm, steady where Bambam still shakes now and then from the prospect of how well their date has gone and how much he’d like it if it were to happen again.

 

There’s traffic at night, so Bambam passes time with some trivial questions, some humming under his breath. He opens his box of sweet tarts and slowly sucks on them for the rest of the ride. Whenever he catches Jaebum glancing at him, he glances back, which ends up in a funny little dance between their eyes and a lot of poorly concealed smiles.

 

Although the traffic had felt like a drag while he was in it, the ride abruptly feels too short when Jaebum pulls up in front of his apartment, turning off the engine and switching the overhead lights on.

 

“I had a great time,” Bambam says earnestly, “Thank you for treating me out so generously.” He squeezes Jaebum’s hand.

 

“No problem. I was happy to spoil you,” Jaebum squeezes back.

 

After spending a few seconds to take in each other’s appearance, Bambam misses his cue to leave and tries to diffuse the weird tension rising in the air again by joking. “Next time, don’t take me out somewhere so nice – it’s awkward when I obviously look like a poor college student.”

 

Jaebum seems to have completely missed the point, beaming at the sound of, “Next time?”

 

Bambam snorts but tilts his head towards the older man, hugging his little box of sweet tarts. “Next time,” he confirms. His eyes cast downwards, unable to face Jaebum properly with the promise of a second date fluttering in his stomach. Jaebum unbuckles his seat belt to lean closer, his hand curling around the nape of Bambam’s neck, fingers sliding through the soft silver strands. Bambam’s breath hitches, and he feels himself stop breathing altogether as Jaebum inches closer, his eyes glued to his soft, plump lips. Bambam licks them subconsciously, which only serves to fuel Jaebum’s flames as he follows the movement of Bambam’s slick, pink tongue parting his lips and drawing back inside slowly, tormenting. The closer Jaebum gets, the more Bambam tries to press himself back into the passenger’s seat, his heart racing with the duality of nerves and anticipation. It’s different from the first time – Jaebum isn’t some stranger anymore, some one-time fling in the night.

 

“Can I…?” Jaebum trails off, voice strained. Bambam stiffly nods once, squeezing his hands on anything he can hold onto. With the permission to continue, Jaebum pulls Bambam in by his neck, his other hand gently resting on top of Bambam’s fist.

 

It’s a sweet, chaste kiss. Their lips touch lightly, carefully, tenderly. Jaebum’s hand in Bambam’s hair is soothing and the little caresses he makes with his thumb have Bambam weakening into his touch. As they get used to each other’s warmth, their lips slide softly together, curious and shy tongues only briefly meeting in the middle before retracting and simply settling for the simplicity of pressed lips. Bambam tilts his head to meet Jaebum better, his back arching and his torso lifting away from his seat. His fists uncurl and open up to accept the slip of Jaebum’s fingers into his, lacing them on top of his lap.

 

They give each other small and lingering pecks which lead to Bambam giggling cutely as Jaebum makes a show of chasing after him every time he withdraws.

 

“You taste so sweet,” Jaebum sighs. Before Bambam can even blush, Jaebum kisses him again, a little harder, a little more insistent.

 

Bambam bites his kissed-red lips, smiling. “It’s just the sweet tarts. I ate a few on the way home.”

 

Jaebum shakes his head, squeezing their joined hands. “No, beyond that. It’s _you_ – you’re sweet.”

 

After lingering in the car for a while, Jaebum finally lets him go. Bambam doesn’t really want the night to end either, but he hasn’t been texting Yugyeom on his whereabouts and surely his best friend would be worried about him and eventually notice the expensive car right outside their house. Jaebum doesn’t start up the car and leave until he sees Bambam inside, waving goodbye and closing the door with a click.

 

The moment Bambam turns on the lights to take off his shoes, Yugyeom rushes out of his room, sliding on his socks to get to Bambam.

 

“You’re home! How did your date go? It looked absolutely crazy!”

 

Bambam heads for his room and Yugyeom is hot on his heels, shooting question after question without even waiting for Bambam to answer them. Bambam humors him with vague answers while he changes out of his clothes unabashedly, Yugyeom getting more impatient by the minute as he sits backwards on Bambam’s desk chair, rolling back and forth.

 

“What about him? Was he good to you?”

 

“Of course he was,” Bambam rolled his eyes. Tired and unbothered, Bambam decides to just pull out a makeup wipe and call it a day.

 

“Do you like him?” Yugyeom stares him down. “You put effort into today – hair and everything.”

 

Bambam stiffens before huffing at Yugyeom. “I didn’t try any more than I usually would.”

 

“You’re avoiding the question,” Yugyeom frowns. “What took you so long to get home? I thought you had dinner together at like seven or eight.”

 

“Well, there was a lot of traffic and stuff,” Bambam shrugs with nonchalance, hoping that Yugyeom will just leave already. “And he’s – he’s…handsome. Attractive. But it’s only the first date; I don’t want to jump the gun and say I _like_ him or anything just yet.” _Would it be too early?_ He thinks to himself.

 

At this, Yugyeom’s eyes bulges out of his sockets. He’s speechless and continues staring hard at Bambam even after he’s being pushed out of the room, door closing in his face. Bambam slips into bed and calls out to Yugyeom that he’s going to knock out early tonight, who he knows is probably still outside his door with that dumb fish look on his face. Bambam tries not to think too much about what that incredulous look on Yugyeom could possibly mean – in fact, it’s easy not to when he’s immediately distracted by the sweet tarts sitting innocently on his night stand and consequently, Jaebum.

 

Bambam silently screams into his pillow, recalling every moment in the car with vivid detail. He tosses and turns, rolling back and forth with his blanket wrapped around him and biting the insides of his cheeks to stop himself from smiling too wide. Bambam feels absolutely _elated_ and even he feels annoyed by himself and the gross aura he’s probably emitting. After a good hour of just throwing himself around and trying to chase away the phantom touches of Jaebum’s hands and lips, Bambam gives in to the all-consuming thoughts of how _screwed_ he really is. He can feel himself tumbling down the hill of feelings and he still can’t find the brakes, can’t even hold on to whom he trusts the most.

 

And when the phone lights up with Jaebum’s name flashing in the center, Bambam can’t hold back his hands from reaching out and swiping up the screen, guiltily relishing in the small contentment of replying back and forth until the sun threatens to rise and his eyelids droop heavily into sleep.

 

**Jaebum hyung**

[Sun, Nov. 14, 3:55AM]

did you listen to the song yet?

 

**Jaebum hyung**

[Sun, Nov. 14, 3:59AM]

?

 

**Jaebum hyung**

[Sun, Nov. 14, 4:12AM]

good night, BamBam ^^

 

-

 

They see each other frequently and briefly.

 

As it turns out, their schedules only match for a short half hour in the mornings between Bambam’s hour gap from his first class of the day and his internship. It’s become a routine that they’ve fallen into – meeting at the same coffee shop from when they exchanged numbers and sharing a blueberry muffin with piping hot coffee. It’s always filled with sweet “good mornings,” infinite excuses to fleetingly brush hands, and poorly held-back grins as they listen to the other talk.

 

Even so, it feels rushed and unsatisfying, especially when Jaebum looks like he wants to kiss him and all Bambam has the wits to do is flee out the door pretending he never catches what they mean.

 

Other than that, they text each other throughout the day and Bambam has reached the point where he’s dropped his “normal person” act and constantly sends Jaebum cat pictures and anything he thinks is funny (which is a lot of dabbing and memes from instagram). Jaebum humors him with a reaction to everything he sends and in return, grumbles about work and all the nagging that he hears from Jinyoung, his secretary, and sends Bambam music recommendations. Bambam has never been the kind to venture into the R&B genre, but he’s pleasantly surprised by how naturally and unconsciously he can groove and roll to the deep bass and sultry voices. The music that Jaebum likes is just so _Jaebum_ that Bambam would laugh if it didn’t always lead to him thinking about the older man’s narrow, dark sensual eyes glowering under dim lights. (Bambam really doesn’t appreciate having to cross his legs in the middle of work or lecture.)

 

After a lot of pestering and some thorough research on Bambam’s part, Bambam had finally shown a picture of Jaebum to his friends.

 

“I don’t think I’m straight anymore,” Changkyun said after a long whistle and raised eyebrows.

 

“Well I’m _very_ straight,” Jimin snatched Bambam’s phone and zoomed in to the selfie, the others crowding around her for a look.

 

Everyone has gotten significantly busier over the next two weeks, only being able to meet each other once a week. And even then, at least one invited person completely misses the meet-up by knocking out in the library drooling over a textbook. Yugyeom had managed to get the job as a teaching assistant in a studio called Hope on the Street so Bambam’s been seeing him less and less too. Their schedules don’t match up anymore now that Yugyeom has night dance classes and Bambam stays behind at the office to tirelessly sketch out designs to submit to the board. Bambam takes the bus home, though sometimes Nana is generous enough to drop him home when she catches him still in his little desk past his shift.

 

One day, as the board of stylists hesitantly passes around a certain portfolio, Bambam nervously watches from outside the glass walls as it reaches the design director’s hands. He’s hidden behind a column, peeking through the cracks for any change in expression on the older woman’s impassive face. Suddenly, she passes it to Nana, who flips through it quickly and puts it down on the table, saying something that Bambam can’t hear. She seems to be unsatisfied with whatever answer the others have given her and Bambam winces, retreating to his place with a heavy heart and disappointment.

 

He’s copying some documents when Hani pops in, curling her finger at him with a small smile.

 

“Bam? Follow me, Nana wants to talk to you.”

 

Bambam trudges behind her dainty steps, pursing his lips and wiping his palms. He hopes he isn’t in too much trouble for daring to submit his own designs when he’s only an intern. As he catches Nana’s steely eyes from outside, he gulps and wills himself to not run then and there. Bambam partially hides behind Hani as he enters the room, caving under the prying eyes of his seniors.

 

“Is this yours?” Nana waves a finger around the portfolio indifferently. Bambam quickly glances to Hani for help, but she merely has on the same small, polite smile that is so coldly professional it _really_ makes Bambam want to run. But he nods nonetheless, hanging his head down.

 

“Come here,” Nana beckons, and Bambam obediently walks over to her, eyes travelling to where she points to a set of papers Bambam hasn’t seen before. She flips to the next page before Bambam can catch the title. “These are the benefits – it’s good, don’t bother reading it.” Another page is flipped. “These are the work hours. They’re not going to change much since we’re flexible.” Flip. “Dress code. Who cares?” Flip. “You’ll be under her direction, so I can’t help you if she works you like a mule.” Nana points her pen to the designer.

 

Bambam tries his best to process the rapid-fire speech from Nana, mind swirling in confusion.

 

“…And sign here.”

 

Bambam grabs the pen dumbly, staring at the blank line at the bottom of the page. “Uhm – noona, what is this?”

 

Nana sighs and shakes her head, a hint of a smile stretching her lips. “You’re one of the dumbest kids I’ve ever met.” Some snickers are heard from around the table. “These are the terms of employment. If I knew you were only an intern this entire time, I wouldn’t have made you follow me around doing all the work I make Hani do. And to think I only find out now, when we realize we can’t use any of your designs because you’re not an employee.”

 

Bambam’s jaw drops and the rest of day ends in a dream-like haze. Everything feels surreal even after he’s done screaming at Yugyeom the moment he got home and spamming their group chat until the entire thread is just filled with celebratory gifs. Aside from all the love he’s received from his best friends, nothing seems to beat the affectionate and proud voice of Jaebum’s congratulations echoing in his ear, effortlessly warming up Bambam from the inside out and leaving him positively radiating.

 

The next day when he strides to the coffee shop in his best outfit, Jaebum is already waiting outside and hurriedly closing the distance when he spots Bambam crossing the street. At the end of the crosswalk, Jaebum pulls him into a tight hug. Bambam laughs airily as his feet lift off from the ground, twirling in circles while Jaebum smiles up at him.

 

“Hyung! Put me down,” Bambam lightly hits his chest. Some of the passersby are looking at them and Bambam ducks his head, feeling a little embarrassed.

 

Jaebum buys both of their coffees and extra pastries as a mini celebration on Bambam’s first real job as a design assistant at a pronounced fashion brand – all before graduation. As he wipes the crumbs off of Bambam’s happy little face, he smiles fondly and promises something better soon when he has time.

 

“Oh, this is enough hyung, don’t make it a big deal,” Bambam pulls away and grabs a napkin, blinking up at Jaebum with half-moons.

 

“It’s just that I know you work hard – more than you give away. I want to commemorate it somehow, give you a reminder that you deserve all that you achieve.”

 

The thought in itself is already so kind that Bambam’s heart flutters. He briefly thinks about how Jaebum is so different from what he seems – Bambam can’t remember when he was so intimidated by just the mere sight of him anymore, now that he knows Jaebum is just a big old softie. Or maybe Jaebum just really likes doting on Bambam. Either way, Jaebum is easily one of the best hyungs Bambam has ever met and he can’t help but press a quick kiss to the corner of his lips. Bambam retracts swiftly into his seat after the feathery touch, heart pounding furiously and cheeks heating up as if he and Jaebum haven’t done anything worse.

 

“Cute,” Jaebum exhales, hand subconsciously tracing where Bambam’s lips had been. He shifts into a wolfish grin, leaning forward with his chin resting on his palm and an eyebrow quirking up at the boy’s squirming.

 

“Stop it,” Bambam covers his face and whines as Jaebum continues to tease him.

 

“Cute, cute, _cute_.”

 

When Jaebum successfully pries his hands away, Bambam decides to take his battle to under the table, where he steps on Jaebum’s foot to get him to let go. This ends up backfiring badly, Bambam realizes with a dramatic gasp. For one, he just stepped on a Gucci brogue-style leather shoe and his inner spirit is crying at the _disrespect_ and two, Jaebum’s eyes sharply glint and suddenly he finds his ass on the floor while Jaebum breaks his face with his dino laugh.

 

“Worst hyung _ever_ ,” Bambam grumbles back to his seat, angrily eating all of the pastries and leaving none for Jaebum.

 

-

 

“Thank you, noona,” Bambam waves to Nana in her car, watching it drive off. He walks up the steps to his apartment sluggishly, jabbing his keys in and fumbling in the dark for the lights. He notes that Yugyeom is home earlier than usual and decides to poke his head in just to check on what he’s doing. It’s been a while since they had time to just play around and he misses Yugyeom.

 

When he opens the door, Yugyeom is asleep on his desk, neck bent in an awkward position that can’t be good for him. Bambam sighs and does his best to move him without waking him up and is successful for the most part; Yugyeom’s still in his chair, but at least he looks much more comfortable and at peace with a pillow beneath his cheek and a jacket on his shoulders.

 

Bambam drops his belongings on the floor in his room, kicking some dirty clothes aside into an accumulating pile. He’s really been slacking on laundry but with some luck, maybe Yugyeom will throw some of his stuff into the same load. It’s only eleven at night though – Yugyeom must be worn out to sleep so early.

 

After shuffling around washing himself up and having a belated dinner of ramen, Bambam pulls up a playlist of Jaebum’s favorite songs and hums to them while working on his homework. Although his fingers itch to check his phone for any messages or to go on his social media, he sets his phone aside for now. The one who he truly wants to hear from won’t be responding now anyway – Jaebum seems to be only free during the late nights, brimming on the crack of dawn, which should be concerning but Bambam honestly isn’t any better.

 

The school term is ending soon before the holidays and there’s been a lot going on. He may have not entered the annual winter fashion show this year, but his time has been completely engulfed by the genuine difficulty of his courses and the struggle to adapt to his new job. Doing the grunt work as a design assistant was demanding – the director wasn’t so lenient as to give him an introductory period to familiarize with the fast-paced schedule. Every time he got something done, there were ten more things to do – it felt like they were weeks behind schedule. He began to be more and more awed at how Nana managed to be so calm and indifferent to the frenzy that whirled around the office – as well as have the time to nap after a drink. (Hani seems to be pleased that he’s now the new target to her drunken rambles.) Even so, it all seems worth it when he sees his one design pinned onto the creative board. It’s only one out of many others, but he always stops and stares at it whenever he passes by, still incredibly humbled and honored.

 

The pay was good too, even if the rent and bills took away a hefty chunk of his check. At least he didn’t have to worry about tuition – his mother promised to support him in his international studies, wiring in money to the school from Thailand every term.

 

Bambam suddenly snaps out of his reverie. What day was it?

 

He looks at the calendar on his laptop, a small little “December 8” staring back at him. The term should be over on the 20th and normally the deadline for the payment for the next term is at the latest a week after. Bambam’s mother is always on top of the schedule, emails from the university and the bank dropping into his inbox at the very beginning of the month. He doesn’t recall receiving either of those yet.

 

An abrupt sense of apprehension falls upon his chest at that realization. Bambam quickly saves all of his work and opens a new tab to check his student account. When he sees the red number of his unpaid tuition mercilessly _there_ in the otherwise innocuous website, the weight of a million tons crashes onto him, falling into the pit of his stomach and leaving him sick. His expression is blank yet tight and his eyes reflect growing fear as he sits at his desk.

 

For the next few hours, Bambam doesn’t sleep. The implications of the unpaid tuition gnaw at his mind the entire night and he can’t focus on anything but. It leaves him frustrated and eventually tires him out, drawing him thin as the night drags over. He shouldn’t be so worried – his mom might be a little later than usual this time but it doesn’t have to mean anything. There’s still half a month to pay it off. Bambam picks at his fingers. If it comes down to worst, he can’t afford to pay for it himself in such short notice even with the new job. Ten million won isn’t going to pop out of his ass out of nowhere.

 

“Bambam?”

 

Bambam startles, eyes jumping to his door. He relaxes slightly when he sees Yugyeom’s bedhead and sleep-crusted face squinting at him. Anxiety still crawls up and down his veins however, prickling his skin and clamping up his dry throat.

 

“What are you doing up so late? It’s like five.”

 

 _Five?_ Bambam glances at the clock and sees that it’s true. He fights his way into a smile, shaking his head. “I got caught up with work. I’m going to bed now.”

 

Yugyeom frowns, eyes more open and adjusted to the light. Something’s wrong. “Okay,” he nods skeptically. “Don’t do it again…it’s not good for you to only catch an hour and a half of sleep.”

 

They send each other small smiles and Yugyeom closes the door, lazily making his way over to the bathroom.

 

Bambam makes an attempt and crawls into bed, sitting up against the headboard. In just another hour, he can make a call to his mom, who would be awake due to the difference in time zone. It would be fine; she’ll explain what’s happening and Bambam can tell Yugyeom all about it later and get laughed at for being stupid. It would be fine.

 

He rests his eyes by closing them, not really sleeping. When the clock strikes six in the morning, Bambam reaches for his phone and bypasses all of the notifications, dialing his mother’s number by heart. It only takes two rings for her to pick up and as much as he is nervous, the sound of her cheery hello still manages to soothe him.

 

“Hey, mom!” Bambam smiles, slipping into his Thai as if he never left it.

 

“ _Bambam!_ ” There’s some rustling heard in the background before the volume gets significantly louder as if his mom is speaking with her mouth on the mic. “ _It’s so early in the morning! You never call this early._ ”

 

“I know. How are you?”

 

“ _Good, good. And how are you, son?_ ”

 

“I’m alright,” Bambam begins, hand gripping onto his blanket. He’s not sure how to breach the topic. “I’m eating well and studying well.”

 

They end up talking about small things for a while, exchanging information about Bambam’s life in Korea and what his sister, Baby, has been up to. It’s only when he hears Yugyeom waking up for the second time, ready to start another day that Bambam quickly remembers what he’s calling for. He lets his mother finish her story about her trip to the market the other day before interjecting an incoming anecdote.

 

“Mom,” Bambam swallows, quieting his voice even though no one can hear them. “It might be a little rude to ask but…are you going to…you know…send over my tuition soon?”

 

The silence he receives drains the color out of his face.

 

“ _Oh, Bam…I’ve been meaning to tell you, but I’ve been too afraid to bring it up._ ”

 

The moment Bambam hears about how the restaurants in Thailand haven’t been doing well, he zones out and clenches his teeth. Everything feels like a blur before his eyes and he can only manage to catch a few words out of the phone call after that – but it’s enough. He’s heard enough to know that what he’s built up here so far is over.

 

“ _…I’m so sorry,_ ” he hears his mom cry.

 

Bambam lets out a shaky exhale, “No, mom, don’t be sorry. It’s okay. Don’t cry – it’s not your fault.”

 

“ _You’ve been so happy there – I hate that I have to be the one to take this all away from you. I’m sorry Bambam, I’m so sorry._ ”

 

Bambam comforts her for the next few minutes, more than surprised that he can manage to sound fine and optimistic about the situation when he feels the complete opposite. When he ends the phone call, it’s with a dejected heart. All of his spirit seeps out of his fingertips and he falls back onto the bed, closing his eyes once more before he can let any tears drop. The family business in Thailand has been declining for a while, unbeknownst to him. His mother has kept it from him in hopes of being able to bring it back up soon – but the pressure and the financial deficit has hit an all-time low recently and it’s practically impossible to keep funding Bambam’s education internationally. He’ll have to end the term here and transfer back home, where he can finish his degree.

 

Bambam pulls up the covers, shoving his wet face into his pillow and muffling any sound that could escape his pursed lips.

 

Yugyeom knocks on his door and enters the room, eyebrows rising to his hairline at the sight of his best friend curled up completely into a cocoon with only half an hour to spare for them to get to class.

 

“Bam? Wake up, we have to go.”

 

An inaudible mumble and some shuffling happen.

 

“Bambam,” Yugyeom calls out, approaching him and shaking his shoulder. “C’mon.”

 

“M’sick.”

 

“What?”

 

“I’m sick.”

 

And Yugyeom is alarmed to hear that Bambam really does sound congested – but it’s not from a cold. He just saw Bambam two hours ago and the boy was just fine, if only sleep-deprived. There’s only one explanation how this can happen and he doesn’t like the thought of it at all. Yugyeom immediately starts pulling on the covers, which Bambam has a death grip on. They struggle against each other for a short moment before Yugyeom, although now incredibly worried, gives up and strokes the little tuff of silver hair peeping out instead.

 

“Fine – I have to go to class. Rest up okay? I’ll come home as soon as I can.”

 

Bambam tries his hardest to swallow down the sob threatening to breach his closed lips, shrinking down further into his bed so that he’s completely covered and pressed into the wall. Yugyeom’s kindness only makes it worse for him to contain himself and he’s both relieved and torn when the door shuts, a tiny click signaling Yugyeom’s exit. Bambam shoves the covers off of him, breathing in the fresh air shallowly as he silently presses his hands onto his eyes, willing the tears to go away. With some deep breaths, Bambam calms down and stares dazedly at nothing, occasionally sniffing.

 

His eyes must be red at this point and if he’s going to skip class, he should at least go to work – but even as he thinks this, none of his limbs seem to listen to him, lifeless and heavy on the bed.

 

Bambam doesn’t want to leave. He’s worked tirelessly to get where he is now. And more importantly, he doesn’t want to leave Yugyeom. Or Jimin, or Changkyun, or Minghao, or Jungkook, or – there are so many of his friends here who are like _family_ and he’s never been able to tell them how much he appreciates them. Bambam’s heart pricks at the thought of Yugyeom’s face when he’ll inevitably break the news. They’ve been together for what feels like forever now that he can’t imagine what it’s like not to wake up together and fighting for the toilet or the shower. He can’t imagine what it’s like not to drive down the freeway to the Han River at 2AM just because. He can’t imagine what it’s like not to be able to turn around and see Yugyeom right behind him, a hand ready to give him that final push of courage he needed to walk forward.

 

There won’t be any more luncheons at the dining halls or at the pizza place right down the block. He can’t go to any more parties that involve trying to out-drink Jimin even though they’re both shit in alcohol tolerance. He won’t be able to see all of the hyungs who have selflessly helped him out on his early career by walking on his shows, modeling for his photos, and bearing the sporadic stabbing incidents from misplaced safety pins.

 

It feels all too sudden and all too cruel.

 

A long while later, Bambam’s phone vibrates a few times, so he slowly turns it on again and reads the incoming messages.

 

**Jaebum hyung**

[Thu, Dec. 8, 9:11AM]

where are you?

 

**Jaebum hyung**

[Thu, Dec. 8, 9:12AM]

I went ahead and bought you coffee

it’ll get cold soon

 

Whatever it is that Bambam has been holding back – it’s all for naught. A surge of emotions bile ups his throat violently and his vision blurs, turning Jaebum’s words illegible. He types back with quivering hands.

 

**me**

[Thu, Dec. 8, 9:16AM]

sorry hyung!

I got sick :( I’ll make it up to you next time!

 

**Jaebum hyung**

[Thu, Dec. 8, 9:16AM]

don’t worry about it – take care of yourself more

 

**Jaebum hyung**

[Thu, Dec. 8, 9:17AM]

get well soon, Bamie

 

Bambam chucks his phone aside and shoves his face into a handful of tissues, laboring breaths shaking his lithe form.

 

He won’t be able to see Jaebum anymore.

 

-

 

After calling in sick for work and asking some classmates for their notes later, Bambam spends the entirety of the day falling in and out of sleep. When he’s had enough of that, Bambam moves to the kitchen instead, distracting himself with washing the dishes and other chores. It’s only later in the evening when he’s had a stale dinner alone and a glass of water that he starts accepting his fate. Bambam wordlessly pulls up his academic history and begins the process of applying for a transfer to a university in Bangkok. The school system is a little different, so he’ll have a longer break after the holidays to settle back home and help out with the restaurants. He also checks the work calendar – thankfully, he can still be present for the final product of his design.

 

Yugyeom gets home at nine, who announces his arrival with a throw of his duffel bag and a dash straight to Bambam, clutching the Thai boy’s puffy face into his large hands. Bambam smiles through his squished cheeks – Yugyeom looks so ugly when he’s about to cry.

 

“Why were you sad today?” He asks softly. Bambam pulls out the chair next to him and gestures Yugyeom to sit down. Yugyeom hesitantly obliges, frowning at the gloomy air around them despite Bambam’s smile. He doesn’t have a good feeling about this.

 

“Yugyeom…” Bambam begins and trails off, wondering what to say.

 

“What? You’re scaring me,” Yugyeom shakes their linked hands, causing Bambam’s arms to flop up and down like noodles. It makes Bambam smile wider, and he tightens his grip on Yugyeom. This seems to get Yugyeom to relax a little, hunching down form his seat naturally so that they’re eye-leveled. He returns the smile tentatively.

 

“You know you’re important to me right? That you’re the best friend I’ll ever have? That I would support you in anything you do?”

 

“Of course!” Yugyeom exclaims. “I already know even without you telling me. I feel that same way too…”

 

“Well…” Bambam casts his eyes downward, hoping it would make the process easier. “I called my mom today.”

 

“Is that – is she okay?” Yugyeom widens his eyes, jumping in his seat.

 

“No – I mean yeah! She’s fine – nothing wrong at all.” Bambam purses his lips. Well okay, maybe that was poorly worded. “Everyone’s alright. It’s just…the family business isn’t doing so well. And the worst part is that they kept it from me for months. I had no clue.” He furrows his eyebrows, shoulders sloping down. “I know Mom is always doing her best. She works so hard to support me and my brothers and sister and – and I’m just angry that I can’t help out.”

 

Before Yugyeom can put in his words of comfort, Bambam speaks again. “We can’t afford me being here anymore.”

 

There’s a moment of silence as the gears in Yugyeom’s brain grind against each other roughly until a spark of shock and dread rush down every nerve on his body – “No…” he whispers in horror. Bambam looks away, afraid to meet Yugyeom’s eyes. “No…no!” Yugyeom grabs his hand again, his grip tight. “You can find a way right? Don’t you have a bit of money saved up?”

 

Bambam shakes his head forlornly. “I can’t. I calculated every possible way this afternoon and…the ends just don’t meet up. I’ll have to give up my job too.”

 

“But you worked so hard to get this far!” Yugyeom wails.

 

“Sometimes hard work doesn’t pay off. It’s all right. I can start anew.”

 

“What if – what if I help you out? How much is the international tuition for the next term?”

 

“Too much.”

 

“Seriously, how much?”

 

“I would never ask this of you, Gyeom, even if you _could_ afford it. We can barely take care of ourselves!”

 

Even so, Yugyeom eventually coerces the price out of Bambam – and the magnitude of it silences them again. Yugyeom pulls Bambam in for a long hug. They shuffle from the living room to Bambam’s room and collapse on the bed, sliding under the covers. While Yugyeom digs his large frame into Bambam’s embrace and lets his curtain hair flop over his face, Bambam tucks them both in. It’s early for bed.

 

“I don’t want to lose my best friend…”

 

A patch of wetness transfers from his shirt to his skin – Bambam rolls his eyes to the ceiling, swallowing down the lump in his throat. He really thought he had already cried all his tears out earlier. Bambam rubs a circle on Yugyeom’s back. He wishes he could tell Yugyeom that he’s not losing anybody. But Bambam, above all, feels his loss the most.

 

-

 

Life, obviously, doesn’t wait for anyone. Bambam still has finals in front of him, patterns to draw, and all kinds of photo shoots to help facilitate. It takes another week for him to finally break the news to everyone else, and the guilt of dropping it on them so suddenly doesn’t ever ease up with practice, especially since it’s in the middle of finals when everyone’s already so wrung out. There’s only five more days until the term is over. The letter of resignation at pushBUTTON still sits on his desk at home, and although he’s applied for a university in Thailand, he hasn’t quite notified the school of his withdrawal either. He’s procrastinating – and he’ll probably keep doing it until the very last minute, just to run away from the finality of his departure.

 

“Did you buy plane tickets yet?” Yugyeom asks some time in the morning.

 

“No, I’m waiting for prices to drop a little more once it’s past Christmas.”

 

“You’ll still be here for the showcase right?”

 

“Of course!” And he’ll be there with flowers and tears – the whole shabang just for Yugyeom.

 

And even though Bambam’s already got one foot out the door and practically all ready to go, there’s still one exception.

 

Bambam holds onto Jaebum’s hand tightly as he drags him all over Seoul, acting extra whiny and indulging himself in this short-term bliss before it inevitably ends. Every time he thinks about bringing his departure up, his throat closes up at how tightly Jaebum holds back, how he smiles fondly at him and lets him have his way, how he’s gotten so _used_ to being the sole object of this man’s attention and…

 

And so Bambam just smiles back, whipping his head the other way and quickly pulling them to something else, something new, just for the sake of deterring from the thought of leaving. After Bambam’s “sickness,” Jaebum had been surprised to find Bambam actively seeking him out at all times of the day when it would usually be the other way around. (So what if he’s been skipping work for a few hours here and there? He’s bribed Jinyoung with the promise of getting him anything he wanted. It’ll be fine.) Each day was bustling with activity – and if he was being honest, he’d never considered himself as part of the _older crowd_ but he was really staring to feel his age around Bambam, barely able to catch up to the whirlwind of his youth.

 

Bambam isn’t innocent. He’s seen his way around the world and has endured twice as many hardships as most his age – and god forbid the amount of immature dick jokes he’s cackled at in the most inappropriate occasions.

 

“Bam,” Jaebum calls for his attention. Bambam turns around and his eyes meet an iconic pink and blue box of sweet tarts.

 

But then at moments like this, Jaebum watches achingly as the pretty smile blooms on Bambam’s face. It lights up his entire presence, like his entire body reacts and hums with happiness even with the smallest of gifts. Bambam always does this thing where he shrinks into himself just for a fraction of a second, and it only takes that fraction of a second for Jaebum to purge all rational thought and just _want_ so many things he feels like a greedy fool for even letting them consume him. But he can’t help it – he can’t help but think at how Bambam looks like he would fit just perfectly into his arms right now. He can’t help but notice the sparkle in his doe eyes and consequently, the beauty mark that rests just below his lash line. He can’t help but want to see it all over again when it’s over, to steal a moment in time and make it his.

 

Bambam isn’t innocent, but he’s pure-hearted and beautiful.

 

When Jaebum reaches out to cup his face later on that night, he only gets a fleeting touch of Bambam’s soft skin on his fingertips before Bambam rushes out of the car.

 

“Goodbye, hyung. Thank you!”

 

And just like that, his hand hovers in the air while Bambam runs up the steps and into his apartment.

 

Bambam doesn’t respond to Jaebum’s texts and calls much after that, even going as far as cancelling their mornings together and muting the conversation at certain times of the day to appear busy. They’ve never talked about what they are to each other but they’d be complete fools to not acknowledge that there _is something_ that definitely puts them off the charts as “just friends.” And for that, Bambam knows that Jaebum deserves a proper farewell and an explanation on why whatever that _something_ is – can’t ever work out.

 

It’s only hard because deep down, Bambam wants it to work out.

 

By the time school is over and everyone has made up for their lack of sleep by hibernating for two days straight, the performing arts’ annual showcase rolls around. Yugyeom has been working on multiple numbers for weeks, rushing in and out of the door in ratty clothes and stuffed duffel bags for long nights at the studio. Bambam gets a seat near the front, only one row behind Yugyeom’s parents and beside many other friends who are there to support with flowers and leis ready in hand.

 

Bambam himself holds a small bouquet of flowers on his lap while Jimin clutches onto the complementary teddy bear next to him, which Bambam suspects that she picked out with the ulterior motive of stealing it later on. It’s a full concert tonight – the music and dance department really went all out this year, filling the entire hall with wintery decorations. The ceiling glitters with stars and snowflakes and the seats are lined with holly. As Bambam scans around, he can see Changkyun and his roommate sitting to the left while some who he recognizes as Minghao’s group taking up an entire row on the right. There are a few more faces he can name, but suddenly the lights dim and the spotlight hits the stage.

 

Jimin makes some sort of strangled noise beside him, causing his head to whip around to look at her strangely. That only encourages her to hit him and berate him for not looking onstage, where he belated sees Youngjae bowing to the audience and taking a seat in front of the grand piano.

 

Bambam gasps, but gleefully grins as Youngjae begins a jazzed-up Christmas tune. “He didn’t tell us he was going to _open the show_!”

 

“I know, right!” Jimin squeals, and then sheepishly apologizes for making noise as people turn to look at her. “I’m so proud of him! God knows he’s been jittery all month just trying to build up his confidence on stage.”

 

Bambam hums in agreement, choosing to focus on Youngjae and the music instead. Unlike most of the shows that Bambam goes to to support Yugyeom, the winter showcase is always much more cheery and a mash-up of pop radio hits. It’s not particularly Yugyeom’s element, which is a mix of house and hip hop – but (Bambam gloats) Yugyeom’s good enough for anything and it’s a nice change of scenery from the usual underground competitions with blaring speakers and neon lights. Plus, he actually gets to sit like a civilized person instead of elbowing anyone who dares to steal his front view.

 

After the season’s greetings and obligatory Christmas carols, the spotlight shifts to contemporary dance. Youngjae continues to play the piano live for multiple numbers, and at this rate it seems that he will be doing so for the rest of the show. The theme of the showcase this year is hope, and while everyone has been great so far, Bambam’s jaw drops in shock as the back curtain rises to reveal Yugyeom and Jungkook clad in white tights as they twirl to their partners, Mina and Momo.

 

Bambam sits on the edge of his seat, eyes shining and glued to the fluidity and elegance of their movements. They aren’t the main stars of this performance, but Bambam could definitely be fooled into thinking so with the passion and soul that they put into it. And the ease that they have in flowing from song to song – Bambam has to breathe out in admiration at how much work it must’ve took to try something so out of their expertise. Jungkook especially makes it look easy to lift Mina by her waist with one arm.

 

Right before the show ends, Jimin pulls him up to sneak up right beneath the front stage, gearing themselves for the curtain call when they can finally be as loud and obnoxious as they want.

 

Roses are flying from all directions onto the stage, and Bambam cheers right alongside everyone else as he waits for Yugyeom to appear. Everyone in the audience knows who Yugyeom is the moment he appears because there can only be one reason a tall boy like him can be so hunched over in embarrassment, red all the way up to his ears while bowing down.

 

“WOOOOOOOO! KIM YUGYEOM!”

 

“YEAH, THAT’S MY BEST FRIEND!”

 

Bambam is dabbing so furiously that one of stage lights actually land on him, prompting cackles all around while Yugyeom, although half-mortified, laughs and replies with a meek dab too. Jimin bounces on her little kitten heels, snarling at Yugyeom to “Get your ass over here!” so she can wrap his neck with a million leis that she totally didn’t just buy off some sketchy guy on her way back from the restroom earlier.

 

Yugyeom follows the rehearsal and makes his way to line up in the back to let other performers get their time to shine; even so, his smile is so bright even the back row can see his pearly whites.

 

After the show, they dive right into the hustle of greeting and congratulating all of the staff and the performers, multiple groups forming around backstage and each with their share of barely contained cheering. While Yugyeom spends some time with his parents first, Bambam makes the rounds and gives everyone he knows a hug and farewell. When he returns, Bambam groans for missing all of the fun and squishes himself right into the middle.

 

Yugyeom’s hollering escalates in pitch the more Changkyun cackles at him and the longer Minghao points the camera at his white tights. Now that the magic of the performance is over, the fact that Yugyeom is wearing tights – with _snowflakes_ printed on them – is infinitely more hilarious. Bambam joins in the teasing and even crouches down to pose next to his thigh for a picture.

 

“ _Bambam_!” Yugyeom hisses, stretching his shirt down and watching his best friend betray him right before his eyes.

 

“Hot,” Minghao smirks and opens an app on his phone that suspiciously looks like snapchat.

 

“No – put that down! I swear to god, I’M GOING TO CALL JEONGHAN OVER!”

 

And Jeonghan, being a naturally curious person and an angel-faced sadist, trots over after overhearing his name and only contributes to Yugyeom’s misery.

 

The only comfort is that Jungkook doesn’t seem to be doing any better a few feet over. He’s got a whole group of hyungs cooing at him and one of them screeches so loud, Bambam snaps his head to make sure no one is dying.

 

“That’s just Hoseok hyung,” Yugyeom waves in their general direction.

 

“Really?” Bambam raises an eyebrow, and then laughs. “Man, you made him sound so cool when you talked about him.”

 

“He _is_ cool. He’s just loud and happy. Definitely not mutually exclusive.” Yugyeom has been Hoseok’s dance assistant for a bit now at Hope on the Street. Yugyeom’s happy there, and that’s all Bambam could ever want.

 

They all head out to eat grilled meat at around eleven and instantly turn a quiet restaurant rambunctious and crowded. It starts off with a whole lot of drinks being passed around and plate after plate of beef and pork flying out of the kitchen. Bambam watches with amusement as Changkyun tries to hand Youngjae a shot of soju and convince his boyfriend to pick up the tab later.

 

“Oh c’mon, Mark’s older than all of us and his wallet’s like _this_ thick!” Changkyun stage-whispers and shows Bambam his stretched thumb and index finger.

 

Youngjae throws his head back in laughter and smacks Changkyun (too hard, causing the soju to spill right over to the unfortunate Jungkook). “Stop that!”

 

“I’ll pay,” Mark casually says before shoving a wrap into his mouth. While Youngjae’s eyebrows rise and Changkyun rejoices, Mark’s eyes twinkle mischievously. “For Youngjae,” he finishes.

 

“Yah!”

 

Bambam turns to his left to see Jimin and Yugyeom dueling with their chopsticks above the last piece of meat on the grill.

 

“I was cooking that since the beginning! It’s mine!” Jimin moves to stab into the meat but gets deflected by Yugyeom’s quick reflexes.

 

“How shameless – _I’ve_ been the one flipping over all the meat while you hogged everything, you pig!”

 

“Pig?!” Jimin rolls up her sleeves, ready to pounce.

 

Their argument cuts abruptly when Minghao slides through and pops the meat into his mouth easily. He chews it delightfully and grins at the two. “Delicious!”

 

Bambam barely avoids the mess that ensures, quickly shuffling over his seat and half-heartedly calling out for them to stop fighting. He and Changkyun bump fists under the table, both betting on Jimin while poor, naïve Jungkook settles on Yugyeom. Bambam cackles as Yugyeom loses his balance and stops himself from falling by slamming his hand right into the dish of pickled perilla leaves. While the hyungs finally intervene and smack them all except for Jimin, Bambam pulls at Yugyeom’s dirtied hand and wipes it down with a napkin.

 

“Now my hand’s gonna smell all day,” Yugyeom whines.

 

“Look at all the stuff stuck under your nails,” Bambam helpfully quips.

 

An hour later and after hundreds of stacked dishes, they all huddle around for one last cheer in celebration of the –

 

“ – BABIES’ BEAUTIFUL, FANTASTIC, ELASTIC –!”

“ _Hyung, shut up_ ,” Jungkook manhandles Seokjin down from the table, but Seokjin is _not_ an easy man who goes down without a fight. He sways a little, flushed and clearly drunk off his mind.

 

“ – WONDERFUL, LEGENDARY WINTER SHOWCASE!” Seokjin thrusts a bottle of soju into the air while everyone whoops and claps. “And in celebration, dear Namjoon will treat everyone to tonight’s meal! Give it up for Kim Namjoon!”

 

Namjoon, who has been just an innocent bystander up until now, chokes on his water. Luckily for him, all of the _responsible_ hyungs who aren’t currently shitfaced offer to split the hefty bill. And even though they’ve all exited the restaurant by two in the morning, it still takes a lot of loitering around for pictures before the party finally breaks up.

 

“Wait!” Bambam runs to pull on Jungkook right before he leaves. “One last picture? With the six of us.”

 

They pose right under a poorly lit streetlight and a trashcan, Bambam’s outstretched arm snapping hundreds of selfies.

 

“When are you going?” Minghao asks quietly. The laughter dies down as they all look at Bambam, who frowns and shifts on his feet. For a moment, he forgot.

 

“I don’t know. I’m thinking after Christmas. I’ll finish turning in all of the documents tomorrow.”

 

Minghao nods once, grabbing Bambam into a singled-armed hug. “We’ll see you before then, right?”

 

“Of course!” Changkyun answers for him. “We can’t let his cheap ass bail out of buying us presents, c’mon now.”

 

Bambam kicks at him, “You’re getting your ass handed to you for Christmas!”

 

Changkyun pretends to size him up, sneering, “Come at me, chopsticks!”

 

The two of them circle into a theatrical fight of flailing and shouting Street Fighter moves. Meanwhile, Jungkook looks over at Jimin, who’s been uncharacteristically quiet. He does a double take at the sight of her red, scrunched up face and jumps out of his skin. “Guys! Jimin’s crying!”

 

“What?” They chorus, heads whipping to Jimin.

 

“I’m not crying!” She wipes her eyes. “I’m drunk!”

 

“She’s drunk and she’s crying, help.” Jungkook flees behind Yugyeom, pushing him forward. “Do something!”

 

“Me?” Yugyeom squawks and tries to push him back, but Jungkook can be a damn wall of steel when he wants to be. “Why me, I didn’t make her cry!”

 

“You ate her meat!”

 

“That was Minghao!”

 

“Yeah, it was Minghao,” Changkyun offers his testimony.

 

“You idiots!” Jimin bawls. “Stupid boys! I hate you!”

 

“Oh my god, you guys really are idiots,” Bambam brushes past them to wipe away Jimin’s tears with his thumbs. It kind of smudges her make up. Bambam looks a little constipated from trying not to laugh.

 

Jimin takes one look at Bambam and bursts into a new wave of tears. “You’re the biggest idiot!”

 

“She said Bambam’s the dumbest one,” Minghao holds out his hand for high-fives all around.

 

“What’s wrong?” Bambam laughs. He should feel bad for doing so, but Jimin really looks like a squished mochi in his hands.

 

“I hate you, you ugly baby! I won’t miss you at all when you’re in Thailand!” And then she hugs him so hard his spine cracks.

 

“Oooooh. Translation: I love you Bambam, I’ll miss you lots.”

 

“Shut up!” Jimin yells over Bambam’s shoulder.

 

-

 

Yugyeom and Bambam were the last pair to go home – Bambam was too sorry to pry Jimin away from him even when everyone else had bid their goodnights. For all of her toughness, she was equally as soft. But that part of her rarely ever surfaced, so rare that Bambam didn’t even expect her to bat a lash when they would eventually send him off at the airport. It tore a new wound in him. Bambam wouldn’t want any of his friends to cry over him.

 

Watching the passing lights and wallowing over his departure in the car didn’t seem to mix too well with the alcohol running in his blood; halfway home, a small headache starts forming in the back of his head.

 

“Gyeom, do we still have aspirin at home?”

 

“I don’t remember – want me to stop at the convenience store?”

 

“Yeah,” Bambam sighs, snuggling up to the corner of the seat and the window. Yugyeom wordlessly turns the music off, expecting Bambam to fall asleep any second. He was getting pretty tired too. A few streets later, Yugyeom turns into a small plaza and parks next to a sleek black sports car outside the convenience store. If he wasn’t so sleepy, he definitely would’ve cared that a celebrity could be really close by.

 

“You can stay in the car; I’ll be quick,” Bambam says, releasing the seatbelt. Yugyeom nods and watches him enter the store. After a minute, he pulls back his seat and closes his eyes. A power nap wouldn’t be a bad idea.

 

Bambam rubs his eye as he walks in with a little bell chime, frowning when he sees the resulting smudge of brown shadow on his finger. He heads straight for the pharmacy aisle, plucking a bottle of aspirin off the shelf. As he makes his way to the register however, a guy in a red hoodie catches his eye. His heart jumps as he stares at the wide back and the cluster of earrings lining the guy’s ears. Something about the sluggish way he moves and the way he roughly pushes his hair back with his fingers seem undeniably –

 

“Jaebum hyung?” Bambam says before he can stop himself.

 

The man turns around, arms full of snacks and jaw slack. “…Bam!”

 

Bambam is astonished, widening eyes blinking dumbly at his hyung’s appearance. Jaebum looks mind-bogglingly different. Whenever they meet, Jaebum is always dressed ready for work, always high-class and dripping in gold. He looks chic and refined, a man whose success shows in everything he does. Who’s in front of Bambam now, however, is just a regular guy out in the middle of the night for…well…some snacks. Jaebum has on a red Vetements hoodie, black basketball shorts, Bart Simpson socks, and a pair of slippers. His hair is completely unstyled and falls straight above his eyes.

 

Jaebum looks so _young_.

 

“Uhm…I’m not eating all of this at once,” Jaebum explains bashfully. Bambam blinks out of his stupor and huffs out a laugh in disbelief. Jaebum completely missed the point. But that’s okay.

 

“I wouldn’t judge you if you do.” Bambam looks at the selection. There’s a lot of strawberry flavors.

 

Bambam looks down at his shoes, remembering how he’s been avoiding the older for a while now and feeling shame creeping up at the unexpected meeting. He hopes Jaebum isn’t too mad at him.

 

“You’re out quite late.”

 

“Hm? Ah…yeah…remember I mentioned my best friend’s showcase? It was today.”

 

Jaebum hums noncommittally, letting a weird silence ensue. Bambam bites the inside of his cheek. Should he tell Jaebum that he’s leaving Korea now while the opportunity is right in front of him? It seems like such a heavy topic for a coincidental midnight run – but if he doesn’t do it now, he’ll probably chicken out until the very last second. Just as Bambam decides to inch into the topic, Jaebum cuts him off.

 

“I’m going to pay for these real quick. Then, if you’re free, do you want to talk?”

 

Bambam nods quickly, although he ends up tailing after Jaebum since he also has to pay for the aspirin. They pay for their items and head outside. The cold wind that hits Bambam wakes him up, the headache replaced by a possibly worse kind of dread. Yugyeom can be seen in the car, completely knocked out on his seat and mouth wide open. Bambam pulls Jaebum farther along the side, where the dark can hide them just in case Yugyeom wakes up.

 

“Is everything alright with us?” Jaebum bluntly asks, and Bambam gulps, not too sure of the answer himself. A reply doesn’t come soon enough, so Jaebum continues with an etch between his brows, “Did I do something wrong?”

 

This, Bambam can answer without hesitation. “No, of course not.” Jaebum exhales, but now there’s confusion on his face. “I…ran into some trouble so…”

 

“You can trust me.”

 

Bambam fidgets, not sure how to word things without revealing all of his worries and sounding like he’s asking for help – because he’s not. Bambam can handle this, even if it’s a real shitty move from life. “I wasn’t sure how to tell you this because,” Bambam shrugs and makes a vague gesture between the two of them, “you know…so I tried to avoid it as much as possible. I don’t know what we are to each other. I don’t know if I matter to you –!”

 

“You do matter–”

 

“ – but I decided that because _you_ matter to _me_ , you deserve to know what’s going on and why I’m going to have to end this.” Bambam finishes his sentence hotly, talking over Jaebum. The older man freezes, eyes suddenly dark and jaw clenched tightly. “It’s not because I don’t like you.” Bambam starts shaking – from the cold or from the half-confession, it’s unclear. “Something came up in my family and I can’t stay here anymore. I’m leaving soon so I just want to say that…I’m glad I met you. You’re a good hyung.”

 

“You’re leaving?” Jaebum sounds surprised, anxious even. “For how long?”

 

“Indefinitely,” Bambam purses his lips. He looks behind his shoulder, to where Yugyeom’s car is. “I should go; Yugyeom’s actually still waiting for me and it’s late. Good night, hyung.”

 

“Wait.” Jaebum quickly grabs onto his hand. “What’s going on? Is there any way you can stay?”

 

“No,” Bambam spits out, instantly exasperated and hurt by the finality of his own words. It must show on his face, because Jaebum’s worried expression comes into his line of sight when the bag of snacks is dropped to the ground and Jaebum’s free hand tilts his chin up. “I’m already preparing to pack up. There’s nothing I can do.”

 

“But is there something _I_ can do?”

 

Bambam opens his mouth to form yet another “no” when a sudden, horrible thought comes up. Jaebum _can_ help. It’d be so easy. But Bambam doesn’t want to stoop that low or impose that kind of weight on anybody. Even if to Jaebum, the amount could be considered nothing.

 

A car door opens and out comes Yugyeom with his phone already dialing Bambam. Bambam was only supposed to buy aspirin – if Yugyeom had time to nap, jolt awake, and find nobody by his side – something’s wrong. Of course, a ring echoes from Bambam’s pocket nearby. Yugyeom turns towards the sound and from his angle, the only thing he can see is Bambam with another person half-concealed by the shadows. The person has a tight grip on Bambam, whose expression doesn’t look too good. He doesn’t even think before he pounces, cutting the connection between them and hiding Bambam behind his back swiftly. Yugyeom snarls.

 

“Step back, creep!”

 

Bambam gasps, pivoting to the front of Yugyeom and holding down both of his fists. “Gyeom it’s okay! It’s Jaebum hyung.”

 

“What?” Yugyeom tears his eyes away from Bambam and squints at the darkness. A face he recognizes from Bambam’s phone appears after his eyes have adjusted. “Oh.” He droops from his fighting stance awkwardly. “Oh hello.”

 

“Hi,” Jaebum lowly greets back.

 

“I’m Yugyeom, Bamie’s best friend.” They shake hands then stare at each other blankly. Yugyeom’s tired, okay. He thought he was going to have to sacrifice his life for Bambam only two seconds ago.

 

Bambam grabs onto his opportunity to escape. “Man, I’m really tired. It was nice seeing you, hyung. Let’s go home?” He hooks his arm with Yugyeom’s and takes long, quick steps to the car, half-dragging Yugyeom with him.

 

“Bambam,” Jaebum calls, and Bambam hates himself for stopping immediately. “I know it’s late but I get the feeling that it’s now or never for you – will you come and talk with me instead?”

 

Yugyeom glances between the two of them. He leans down to whisper to Bambam. “What’s going on? Are you guys fighting?”

 

“Maybe?” Bambam meekly replies. “I kind of just told him that I’m leaving Korea.”

 

“ _Just_ told him?! That’s not how you treat your boyfriend!” Yugyeom blurts out loudly.

 

Bambam lets out a scream before punching Yugyeom in the gut. “Ohmygod shutup he’snotmyboyfriend! Shut up, _shut up!_ ” Completely flushed, Bambam bites on his lip and clenches his fists. He can feel Jaebum’s eyes on him. Fucking Yugyeom.

 

“What the hell are you doing? You told everyone about this like almost two weeks ago, why are you only telling him now?”

 

“ _I know I’m trash okay!_ ”

 

“Damn straight you are – get your ass over there!”

 

Jaebum watches as the two of them whisper in harsh tones and start slapping each other. All of a sudden it’s like watching two kids fight.

 

“At the very least he’s a good friend, isn’t he? You talk about him all the time! If it’s anything like how I think it is, then he deserves a proper goodbye much like me or Jimin or anyone who cares about you. What are you so afraid of?”

 

Bambam quiets down and looks at Jaebum. Their eyes meet and he swallows past his dry throat, frowning.

 

Yugyeom’s right.

 

A hand nudges him forward and he gives Yugyeom one final look; what he sees is a reassuring smile, the same old best friend who always looks out for him. They bid good night and get in their respective cars – though Bambam completely misses the jaw-dropping, wide-eyed look on Yugyeom’s face as he and Jaebum enter the expensive sports car.

 

-

 

No café would be open at this time of the night, so what ends up as their destination is none other than Jaebum’s luxury condo on the tenth floor of some obnoxiously tall building that even when Bambam cranes his neck, can’t see the end of. The only thing he’s grateful for is the fact that everyone is asleep, meaning there’s only one late night receptionist to mentally judge him as Jaebum leads him to the elevator. Otherwise, it’s just déjà vu with the 5-star restaurant again. Even the most mundane thing can impress him with its quality and shine, like the plush carpet lining the polished floor; it feels like a crime for someone like Bambam to get his muddy shoes on.

 

The door to Jaebum’s home has fingerprint access (of course it does; Bambam should just start adopting everything Yugyeom’s shown him in chaebol dramas as fact by now. Maybe then he’ll stop being so impressed.) And when it opens, all the lights automatically turn on, revealing a beautifully decorated modern condo with high ceilings and navy accents. Everything looks so clean – as if no one has been living in it at all except for the jarringly out of place pastel cat stand. The owner of the stand seems to be nowhere in sight though.

 

“Water?” Jaebum is already pouring two glasses. Bambam takes a much-needed gulp of his water on the white suede couch, suddenly nervous when Jaebum sits next to him. Jaebum takes his hand and gently rubs circles on it, waiting for him to be ready. They don’t talk for a long time, but somehow the handholding turns into Bambam resting his head on Jaebum’s shoulder and then into being completely nestled between his legs. It’s nice and warm; Jaebum’s sturdy chest feels good to lean on. Bambam can’t say he wouldn’t rather do this for the rest of the night than actually getting down to business. But he’s dragged it for long enough.

 

“I’m leaving Korea soon and I had a hard time telling you because I don’t want to leave my life here at all and end things with everyone – especially you. So I did the dumbest thing I could: running away until the very last minute.” Bambam is glad that they are not facing each other. Having to look at Jaebum while explaining himself would make it infinitely harder. “I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s okay.” Bambam feels a kiss pressed to the crown of his head. “Can you tell me why you have to go?”

 

Bambam hesitates for a moment, trying to find any way to get around the point. But nothing seems to sound right, so he sighs, “I work and save up to be able to support myself…but my family pays for my international tuition here at university. It’s expensive. And now that my mom’s business has been declining, we can’t afford for me to finish school here anymore. I’ll have to go home.”

 

He sags in Jaebum’s arms, feeling defeated. He’s had a lot of time to mull it over by now, but it still sucks to have to actively say it and resign to his fate. And judging by Jaebum’s silence, he must too realize that it’s all over for them before anything serious can really begin. But it’s fine that way, right? They never stood a chance to begin with. They’re worlds apart in both age and personality. And while Bambam really, _really_ does like his hyung (if you can get him to admit it), he can’t expect Jaebum to feel the same. Jaebum’s a wildly successful and mature adult – he’d be crazy to want to start, what, a _long-distance relationship_ with a college student? Crazy. Impossible.

 

“ – much is it?” Jaebum asks slowly.

 

Bambam snaps out of his thoughts, turning his head to look at Jaebum. “What?”

 

“How much is your tuition?”

 

“About ten million,” Bambam answers dumbly, blinking owlishly up at his hyung, wondering why in the world –

 

Bambam wheezes, a strangled sound coming from his throat as he abruptly pulls away from Jaebum’s embrace to face him. “No! No, no, no –!”

 

“I was just wondering –!”

 

“No, whatever it is, no!”

 

“Look, just hear me out –!”

 

“No!” Bambam cries, scrambling out of his lap. “I knew you might do this! I knew…”

 

“Listen,” Jaebum begins, “it’s not like that. Or, well…” His eyebrows furrow, eyes darting to the floor. “I don’t know. I can help you stay. I can help you pay.”

 

Bambam curls into a ball, peeking through his fingers. “No. I’m not taking your money.”

 

“It’s nothing I can’t afford, Bam-ah.”

 

“It’s not about that! I don’t want money to be involved in any relationship – I don’t want to take advantage of anyone and this would look and feel so _wrong_.”

 

“But isn’t money the only thing in your way right now? Isn’t it the only thing holding you back from living the life you want? Here?”

 

Bambam’s eyes water. “I can’t pay you back right now.”

 

Jaebum lifts his face up, sweetly stroking his cheekbone. “You don’t have to; pay me back whenever you can, even if it means after graduation.”

 

Bambam looks and looks and looks. This can’t be real.

 

Jaebum smiles, and both of them waver with desperation. “Just spend some time with me. That’s all I ask.”

 

“Spend some time with you?” Bambam breathes out in wonder and disbelief. Jaebum gives him an affirmative nod.

 

What happens next – can’t be explained. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s way past bedtime and that he’s had a long day. Maybe it’s the fact that Bambam has been so tired and so, so stressed and miserable about having to leave. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s desperate to do anything but. Either way, he’s not thinking straight. The offer is too good to be true and the hope that it gives him overwhelms him. It’s really _that easy_. With Jaebum’s help, he can stay; he can pay off his tuition and scrap all of those resignation letters he’s been keeping on his desk with scorn and anger. It’s crazy. They’re crazy.

 

“I can do that.”

 

A soft kiss seals the deal.

 

-

 

(Before any of them can back out, Bambam finds himself opening up his school website and watching numbly, blearily, as Jaebum types in the number on his card. He clicks a button with the mouse and – gone. Just like that, Bambam’s owed balance for the next term is gone.

 

He dresses up in Jaebum’s borrowed clothes and sleeps in Jaebum’s guestroom. Jaebum, Jaebum, Jaebum.)

 

-

 

“Surprise!” Bambam laughs nervously, looking at all of the shocked and slowly developing degrees of either happiness or anger forming on everyone’s faces. “I don’t have to leave anymore? Haha…?”

 

After a moment of silence – “What the fuck,” Yugyeom spits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I've actually put something out. This is my first fic since I was like, what, 13? (LOLOL ew) /sweats nervously
> 
> Anyway, it was a struggle because 1) I can't keep things short fuck me 2) I didn't think while writing that it was a slow burn buT /POINTS AT WORD COUNT. IF THAT AIN'T SLOW BURN WELL SHIT - 3) wow college is...no joke...RIP
> 
> /climbs mount everest and aggressively screams: I LOVE BAMBAM SO MUCH Y'ALL NEED TO LOVE HIM MORE WHERE ARE ALL THE BAMBAM FICS IT'S DRIER THAN THE SAHARA DESERT
> 
> Also, I did very little research on fashion. And Idk how to post so I hope the format ends up okay.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Uhm, I can't really promise when the next part would come out tho :D ha...ha...


	2. take my hand, take my love

 

 

“Oh that looks _nasty_ ,” Changkyun squirms at the sight of the big, purple bruise on Bambam’s shin. Bambam pulls his pants hose back down, moaning in his seat. He leans towards Jimin.

 

“Don’t you feel sorry for me? You kicked me so hard!”

 

Jimin turns her nose up with an indignant “Humph!” She sips at her drink angrily. “You deserved every bit of it.”

 

“It’s not _my_ fault your soft little heart cried! I really was actually going to leave, okay? I just happened to get it all worked out…uh…right before the farewell party.” Bambam shrinks in his seat a little. He thinks he might’ve snapped a cord in Jimin just now, judging by her red, steaming face.

 

“Soft?” She raises her fist – “I’ll show you how soft I am!”

 

While Bambam squeaks under the mercy of a goddess of war and vengeance, Jungkook and Yugyeom return to the table with two large pizzas.

 

Two days before, the gang had gone above and beyond in preparing a farewell party for Bambam’s departure, which was also a combined event with a Christmas party. Yugyeom had driven him over to Jimin’s apartment excitedly without giving him a single clue. When he walked in, confetti flooded his vision and Minghao made it his mission to continuously blow two party horns right next to his ears. Bambam looked at the poster on the wall filled with all their pictures intricately pasted together and thought – _I am so fucked._

 

“To be fair, you really should’ve told us sooner,” Jungkook speaks with his mouth open, unapologetically watching Bambam get a second beating. Jimin’s not actually hitting all that hard – Bambam just has no fat on his body and is a weak chopstick. Minghao makes a disgusted face and shuts Jungkook’s mouth closed.

 

“I don’t need to see all that cheese in your mouth.”

 

“All of you avoided me like the plague! I couldn’t even say one word before you guys dashed off into the sunset together – ow, ow, Jimin, I’m sorry!” Bambam pleads, hands praying above his head. Jimin lets him go, plopping back in her seat and grabbing a slice of pizza.

 

“I’m still mad – but I like my pizza hot,” she says.

 

“How’d you manage to work it out? You said there weren’t any options when I tried to help,” Yugyeom frowns at the memory.

 

“A distant relative gave me a loan,” Bambam lies, reciting it just how he practiced in his head. “I can pay him back whenever I can.”

 

While the rest of them hum in acknowledgment, Yugyeom furrows his eyebrows. “A relative? Who?” Of course, Yugyeom was the most dangerous hurdle to get through. They both knew each other too well and have practically met all of their family members either in person or through photo-bombing Skype sessions. Anyone close enough to them to loan that kind of money, they would’ve known at least by name.

 

Bambam quickly says a random Thai name and waves it off, hoping it comes off as nonchalance. “I don’t know him too well either, but he was close to my mom when they were younger.”

 

Yugyeom nods hesitantly, letting the information sink in. He bites into his pizza. Bambam has no reason to lie.

 

For the rest of lunch, the group chatted amicably about nonsense and upcoming plans for the break. Jungkook was apparently going to go home to visit his parents, same with Minghao. Jimin has a road trip planned with her girlfriends and they’ll be heading out to visit all of the provinces they can before school starts again. Only Yugyeom, Bambam, and Changkyun are left with nothing to do.

 

“No-lives stick together,” Changkyun reels them in for a pity fest.

 

“I’ll probably be busy with work anyway; my boss gave me the full forty hours a week now that she knows I’m free,” Bambam grimaces. A whole day of tracing her patterns and pricking his finger on mannequins, followed by coffee runs and barely-made-it deliveries. Great. Nana really wasn’t kidding when she said the head designer would work him like a mule. But all in all, he’s still very grateful for his position at the office. When he realized he didn’t have to hand over the drafted resignation letter on his desk, he immediately fed it to the shredder and hugged everyone he could reach. Hani was so unprepared for it that she yelped and jumped, spilling Nana’s bottle of wine onto the table and floor. Both of them were afraid when she walked in and stared at the completely ruined expensive rug – or, until she exclaimed “That’s it!” and proceeded to create an entire look book inspired by spilled wine.

 

“Hm, okay. I guess I’ll just hang out at Hoseok hyung’s studio more often while you’re gone,” Yugyeom contemplates. “Actually, let’s go out for Christmas! It’ll be so pretty!”

 

“Can I bring Minhyuk hyung? He’s been moping around about being single lately.”

 

“Sure. If that’s the case maybe I should see if anyone else who’s free wants to join,” he whips out his phone.

 

“Actually,” Bambam begins, “I can’t do Christmas.”

 

“What? It’s a holiday!” What kind of workplace doesn’t give Christmas holidays?

 

Bambam picks at his shirt, averting his eyes. “Uhm. I’m going out.” He looks up to see five pairs of eyes burning a hole into his skull. “With Jaebum hyung.”

 

None of them react for a moment, so Bambam makes the false assumption of it being safe to relax. That wasn’t as bad as he expected.

 

“What!” Jimin shrieks. Never mind.

 

The others look just as shocked as she does. Before he can blink, all of them close in on him, cornering him into his seat.

 

“What in the world?”

 

“Is this serious? Is this official?”

 

“You’ve never gone out on a _Christmas date_ before!”

 

“Oh my god, _this guy slipped past our defenses_! And we haven’t even met him!”

 

Bambam blushes hotly while they argue amongst themselves, hissing at each other for letting some unknown stranger “steal their baby right out of the cradle” before their eyes. They’re only upset they never got the chance to unleash the iconic and obligatory Protect Bambam speech.

 

“It’s not a big deal!” Bambam tries to interject.

 

“Shut up, it’s a big deal and you know it!” Jimin shushes him with an eaten pizza crust, which Bambam promptly spits out and haphazardly wipes his tongue on a napkin.

 

Okay. It’s a big deal, but half of it isn’t because of what his friends are thinking. What makes it a big deal to Bambam is the fact that it’ll be their first date after The Deal (cue dramatic music in his head). And if Bambam wasn’t sure of where they were in terms of their relationship before, he’s even more confused than ever now. They hadn’t gone over anything about what it means for Jaebum to be basically paying for Bambam’s tuition and what qualifies as “spending time with him.” Quite frankly – it’s embarrassing to have to talk about it. Bringing it up is already hard enough, but actually going to ask Jaebum about the terms and conditions of this “loan?” Bambam would rather jump off a cliff. For now, he’ll just have to assume anything the older man wants is permissible. Holding hands? Easy. Kissing? Bitch, he would’ve done it for free any day. Going on dates? Consider it done.

 

Sex?

 

Bambam sweats under his sweater. He’s thought about it before. Of course he has. Anyone who has _seen_ Im Jaebum would’ve thought about it. But now instead of burning him up deep within his loins, the thought of having sex with Jaebum makes him nervous in a completely different way. If he were to engage in that kind of activity with him, wouldn’t that make him look…like a…?

 

Never mind. It’s not like that, because Bambam’s _definitely_ paying him back. Later. With actual money. Not other questionable means. And of course, Bambam exhales. He trusts his Jaebum hyung to not take advantage of him like that. It’s just not his character.

 

“What are you guys going to do?” Yugyeom asks, drawing Bambam out of his thoughts.

 

“I dunno, he just said he’ll pick me up,” Bambam shrugs.

 

“They’re probably going to see the Christmas lights like some gross lovey-dovey couple,” Changkyun scrunches up his face then clutches his heart in agony. “It’s so gross _I’m jealous_.” He suddenly grabs Yugyeom’s hand. “Yugyeom, date me, then we don’t have to be single for Christmas.”

 

Everyone but Jungkook laughs, though it goes unnoticed since Yugyeom refuses adamantly.

 

“It must be so nice to have a boyfriend,” Jimin sighs.

 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Bambam corrects. Everyone but Bambam must be really in sync today, since they all roll their eyes at the same time.

 

“Yeah, and we’re not your friends,” Minghao mocks him.

 

“Maybe it’ll be an actual yacht this time,” Yugyeom’s eyes glimmer. “Like Boys Over Flowers!”

 

“What’s with you and yachts?” Bambam slaps his arm.

 

“A yacht?” Jungkook crinkles his nose. “Stay within the budget.”

 

“Oh but that _is_ the budget!” Yugyeom raises his eyebrows. He suddenly remembers – “Wait, Bambam’s never told you guys!”

 

They look back and forth between Yugyeom and Bambam, faces scandalized even without knowing what it is they were missing out on.

 

“Jaebum’s _loaded_! He’s got to be some spoiled chaebol or something. I briefly met him the night of our winter showcase and he had this nice, beautiful, _foreign car_ right outside of a convenience store. He opened the door for Bamie and,” he pauses for dramatic effect, “ _Bambam never came home_.”

 

There’s a collective gasp all around the table – Bambam can’t believe he was betrayed like that. None of his friends quiet down even after they leave the pizzeria, excitedly drawing all sorts of conclusions about Bambam’s rich boyfriend who, according to them, must’ve been born in Gangnam, studied abroad, and live in an entire mansion with butlers and maids. It’s mostly all just nonsense that they’ve come up with, and no one takes each other seriously. But to Bambam’s dismay, they don’t ever drop the topic.

 

“Bring him with you some time. We want to meet him,” Jimin holds onto his elbow.

 

Bambam stiffly nods so that he and Yugyeom can go home in peace. They’re never ever going to meet Jaebum. Bambam can’t imagine the kind of backlash he’d get upon their discovery of two things: their age difference and their deal. It’s going to have to be a secret he brings down to his grave.

 

-

 

Changkyun and Jungkook show up unexpectedly at their apartment just before Bambam’s ready to leave on Christmas day, waiting around in the living room with his phone and legs propped on the coffee table. Bambam’s hair is longer now and bleached white as the snow, parted carefully in the middle and styled so that one side is behind his ear. A black turtleneck rests under his pinstriped blouse, all tucked into straight black trousers with a silver-buckled belt. The outfit is topped off with a wine-colored duster. Changkyun doesn’t even say anything, just standing and blocking the doorway while giving him moony eyes.

 

“…Hyung, move, it’s cold,” Jungkook grumbles.

 

“Aw,” Changkyun coos instead. “Look at Bambam, all cute and ready for some loving.”

 

Bambam pretends to gag, chucking a pillow at him, who catches it smoothly. “What are you doing here?” He looks at Jungkook. “And weren’t you going to visit your parents?”

 

“We’re here to pick up Yugyeom, of course!” Changkyun beams. Jungkook finally pushes him out of the way and plops himself on the armchair, warming his hands up. Yugyeom exits his room, but instead of leaving immediately for their “bros’ day out” or whatever, he too, sits on the couch. Bambam suspiciously glances among the three of them.

 

“Okay…” Bambam squints. He goes back to looking at his phone.

 

**me**

[Sun, Dec. 25, 2:29 PM]

are you here yet~

 

**Jaebum hyung**

[Sun, Dec. 25, 2:29 PM]

outside

 

Bambam shoves his phone and wallet into his pockets, which catches their attention. “Bye, guys! Have fun!” When he leaves to put his shoes on, he can hear three sets of footsteps trailing after him. He looks over his shoulder with one shoe on. “What are you doing?”

 

“Leaving, of course,” Changkyun grins. “Hey, you know what? It’s really cold out there – why don’t you invite Jaebum in for a cup of tea or something?”

 

Before anything else can happen, Bambam dashes out the apartment with one shoe on and a socked foot that’s desperately avoiding all the snow. He all but throws himself into Jaebum’s obnoxiously expensive car, yanking the seatbelt on while Jaebum stares at him with wide eyes.

 

“Hyung, drive, drive!” Bambam watches in horror as the curtain from the window starts opening. Although Jaebum raises an eyebrow at his frantic state, he still complies with Bambam’s demand and backs out of the driveway with deft hands. A street down, Bambam turns in his seat and spies the three of his friends getting into Jungkook’s car – they wouldn’t go as far as to follow him, would they? Even for Jimin that would be too much.

 

“What was that?” Jaebum laughs under his breath.

 

“My friends have no lives and want to follow me,” Bambam presses his cheek against the window, straining for a better look. Then he realizes he could just check the rear view mirror.

 

“I don’t think they are,” Jaebum says as he makes a turn.

 

“Good,” Bambam huffs, taking the time now to flatten the bunch of his cardigan under his butt. He shoves his foot in the other shoe and silently thanks the gods that he picked up the right shoe. It would’ve been embarrassing to be wearing two different pairs.

 

“You dyed your hair.”

 

“Mm,” Bambam hums. “I’m going for that ‘winter wonderland’ look. Isn’t it cool?” Jaebum drops his right hand from the wheel and lays it open between the both of them, eyes on the road. Bambam easily lays his hand right on top, filling in the gaps of his fingers. They both curl their fingers simultaneously.

 

“Yeah.” Jaebum draws his hand in for a kiss. “Stunning,” he smiles.

 

Bambam purses his lips, biting down a grin as he rolls his eyes. Gross. His hyung is so gross. He steals a glance at Jaebum and finds that he’s still smiling, eyes curved into slits like a happy cat. It’s frustrating. Jaebum always looks so good without even trying while Bambam here spends at least an hour just staring at his closet (though half of it is probably due to him being on his phone and the other half having to dig through a laundry mountain). The only explanation he’ll accept is that Jaebum must have a stylist of his own – there’s no way someone can just “throw things on” and manage to look like they’re about to hit the runway. He looks chic, of course; all black with a double-breasted pea coat and gold watch.

 

Bambam takes the liberty of turning on the radio instead of sitting through the silence this time, stopping at a Christmas music station. Some of it is the Korean version, but the majority is still all of the classics in English that Bambam has heard ever since he was a little boy. Back in Thailand, the sun shone year-round, so he could never really imagine how magical a winter wonderland could be. He remembers his first snowfall the year he moved to Korea to chase his dreams. Yugyeom had laughed at him for looking so amazed, mouth open and eyes up to the endless gray sky in child-like wonder. And now, as the snow softly falls against the car window like small fluffy cotton balls, he still watches with a small smile as the heat of his palm melts down a snowflake.

 

“Do you like the snow, hyung?”

 

“Hm, I guess I do.”

 

He nods absent-mindedly. “I like it. It’s so pretty to look at from the inside.”

 

“Not the outside?”

 

Bambam retracts his hand from the window, turning his head to scrunch his nose up at Jaebum. “It’s cold.”

 

“Well, hopefully not too cold for a walk.” A park can be seen right up ahead, more crowded than usual due to the holiday.

 

“It won’t be if you keep me warm!” Bambam says cheekily and then follows up with a squeal, curling his hands and toes while cringing. Both of them laugh, and Bambam covers up the majority of his face. “Wow – that – I’ll just leave the cheesiness to you.”

 

“Me?” Jaebum’s eyebrows shoot up in genuine shock, turning his head to fully look at Bambam now. “Cheesy? When?”

 

“ _When?_ ” Bambam repeats with his own amused disbelief. “What do you mean _when_? Isn’t it all the time?” Jaebum looks so flustered at the exclamation that he swiftly stares straight at the road again, back suddenly straight against the seat and cheeks heating up. Bambam giggles in delight and squeezes their linked hands.

 

“I -!” Jaebum clears his throat, then almost _pouts_ when he utters, “I thought I was being…I don’t know. _Suave_.”

 

Bambam really cracks up after that, which further embarrasses Jaebum. (Though no matter what, he never lets go of his hand.) “ _Suave_ ,” Bambam squeaks out in the middle of his breathless laughter. More than the thought of Jaebum being proud of himself after every flirtatious comment, it’s his choice of diction that gets Bambam rolling.

 

“Yeah, suave,” Jaebum grits out. His grip is tight on the wheel as he settles into a parking lot. “At least I’m honest?” He deflates.

 

Bambam stifles the last bit of laughter bubbling up inside him and leans in, pressing a quick kiss to his hyung’s heated cheek. “It’s okay, it’s not so bad.” And sadly super effective sometimes.

 

Jaebum is in a considerably lighter mood after that, chest puffed up almost comically until it gets too tiring to keep up the bravado and he’s back into his usual slouch. The walk around the park is slow and serene, their footsteps muffled upon the white carpet of snow and the distant ringing of children’s laughter echoing in the silence. The chilling wind that occasionally drafts through bites at their skin but makes the warmth of being close to each other all the more precious. Every exhale leaves behind a visible puff of air that disintegrates and wisps around the lightly descending snow. Their hands are shoved deeply into their pockets, tightly clasped hands toasty in Jaebum’s pea coat. They pass by families and other couples along the main path, and Bambam’s pulse quickens at the image they must be producing right now.

 

It’s a different kind of mood for Bambam to be in. He’s used to having his childish group of friends running around screaming, always finding trouble and always having fun in the loudest possible way. This, though, is charmingly peaceful and lovely in its simplicity. The same park that he’s always gone to seems different now that he’s with Jaebum. There are things that he’s never paid attention to before that he marvels at now – like the way the sunlight peeking through the heavy clouds is like marbling on water, or the way the bareness of the trees in winter reveal the arches and bends of its long lives. Their soft murmurs are only between them, voices low and conversation light. Jaebum’s eyes on him are undivided and fond, especially when he has to shy away for a quick break from the intensity of Jaebum’s attention. His lashes flutter when a stray snowflake catches upon its length, and Jaebum always, with the warm pad of his thumb, sweeps it away gently so that his own hands would never have to brace the cold.

 

It’s definitely a different kind of mood, Bambam thinks, as his heart can never seem to calm down to a steady beat. It’s not loud in the way that he’s familiar with, but loud and clear in the muted growth of his unadulterated feelings.

 

They’ve made a single round through the park by the time Jaebum clears down a bench with his hands and asks if Bambam wants to rest for a while.

 

“Already?” Bambam automatically frowns, disappointed that the tranquility has to be broken so soon. He quickly corrects himself, hoping that Jaebum wouldn’t catch his tone. “Are you that old?” He smirks.

 

Jaebum looks at him unamused from the corner of his eyes. “No.” For the first time, his gaze lingers on something other than Bambam. It’s the steaming food cart an ahjumma is rolling around. “I’m hungry.”

 

“I thought you ate before you picked me up,” Bambam says, mildly concerned.

 

“I did. It’s just…” He points to the Styrofoam cup of ddeokbokki from afar. “Doesn’t that look tasty?”

 

It does.

 

So while Jaebum lines up for a cup – “Two cups,” Bambam holds out his fingers with a coy smile – two cups for each of them, Bambam reserves the bench for the both of them. To the side are two groups of children having a snowball fight, high-pitched squealing filling the air whenever an icy projectile hits. They must be around six or seven, running around with short, clumsy legs and wrapped up in layers of jackets like bubble wrap. Most of them have poor aim, and their little hands can’t make the best snowball but they are still squealing and having the time of their lives. There’s a little girl with rabbit earmuffs, smaller than the rest and struggling to form a ball.

 

Jaebum comes back some time later while Bambam’s watching them, handing him the two hot cups of ddeokbokki as promised. The piping hot and spicy snack is well welcomed in this cold weather but it still doesn’t justify the rate that Jaebum is inhaling his food, stuffing two rice cakes and a fish cake into his mouth at the same time. Man, when Jaebum doesn’t care about his appearance, he _really_ doesn’t care about his appearance. Bambam shakes his head and hands him a napkin multiple times, though all Jaebum does is ball them up in his hand and wait until the very end to wipe his mouth.

 

“You’re working through your break from school, right?” Jaebum asks while he waits for Bambam to finish up.

 

He nods, swallowing down a mouthful. “It’s been really busy lately so my boss has been putting all her stress on me. You wouldn’t believe just how many times she’s made me fetch something just to change her mind and throw me out to get something else!” Bambam stabs the last rice cake with his toothpick and stacks the empty cups. “What about you, hyung?”

 

Jaebum smiles tiredly. “I’m always busy. No season would be better than the other.”

 

Bambam suddenly thinks of their late night texts and wonders if meeting up like this and thus postponing Jaebum’s work is the cause of his poor sleeping habits. Bambam is a student with procrastination issues, so sleeping late and pulling all-nighters isn’t really that unusual. But for a man like Jaebum, having so little hours of sleep per week must be draining.

 

“Do I distract you?” Bambam asks carefully, eyes sinking.

 

“Of course not,” Jaebum is quick to counter. “You’re a breath of fresh air. Don’t I deserve a break too?” He smiles and nudges Bambam until he flashes one back. “Here, I’ll go throw these away.”

 

Bambam watches his retreating back as he leaves to throw away the trash. The little girl from before catches his eye again – but this time instead of having a scrunched up mess in her mittens, she has a giant snowball relative to her size rolling around and getting bigger by the second. Bambam is considerably impressed – just moments ago she was on the ground clutching at nothing but now she’s got a good foundation for a snowman. Or – Bambam widens his eyes worriedly, watching her trying to pick it up – she’s got a really good snowball.

 

Her legs stumble backwards at the weight of the snowball, leaving Bambam to jump out of his seat to catch her right at the last moment. The snowball flings behind him, but he’s got her by her armpits safe and sound.

 

“Here,” Bambam quickly forms a smaller ball for her to hold before she cries, laughing a little. “Make something you can carry, okay? Play safe.”

 

But the girl isn’t looking at him, just staring wide-eyed at something behind him in glee. She squeals and runs away laughing without even taking his gift. Bambam belatedly realizes there is a shadow looming over his crouching figure and that it isn’t a tree. He turns around, eyes travelling up the familiar legs to the very familiar albeit snow-crusted face, incriminating snowball still in his hand.

 

Bambam whips his head back and forth from the snowball in his hand to Jaebum’s fiery eyes but otherwise deadpan face. “Uhm…it wasn’t me,” he sweats nervously. Yet he still hasn’t let go of the snowball.

 

“Right,” Jaebum grinds his jaw. It looks dislocated. “It wasn’t you.”

 

“Yeah, it was the little girl from before –!” He looks around, and of course she’s nowhere to be found.

 

Jaebum bends down and quietly starts rolling a snowball. Bambam panics, realizing that Jaebum is aiming for one at least the same size as the one she had, if not bigger. “Tell hyung you’re sorry.”

 

“Wait!” Bambam scrambles backwards, propping up to his feet and creating some distance. “It really wasn’t me!”

 

Jaebum lifts up a snowball the size of his head. The melting glob in Bambam’s hands suddenly feels so unfair. Bambam raises his hands up in a protective stance, surrendering under the menacing sight of the ice _brick_ in the devil’s approaching figure.

 

“Wait! I’m sorry! Just put that down!” Honestly, Bambam’s pretty much ready to run for his life.

 

“You’re sorry?” Jaebum cradles the monstrosity under his arm and charges. “So it _was_ you!”

 

Bambam screams a whole octave higher than the squeakiest child around and _sprints_ , suddenly an Olympic track and field athlete in jumping over fallen branches and whizzing past trees and humans alike. Heavily panting, he makes the mistake of glancing behind his shoulder just to see the black blur of an ominous figure quickly catching up. As Bambam passes by an empty table layered with snow, he scrapes the surface with one hand and reforms his sad snowball while running on his dying thin legs.

 

If he’s going to die right here, right now, he might as well get in one shot to make it worth it.

 

Bambam takes a detour from the trail, half-tripping down a shallow slope where the trees are denser but the snow is even thicker. Bambam regrets his life choices. His steps sink down all the way to his calves and at this point he’s just a slow and easy target. _Why is life so hard?_ He groans loudly.

 

“You can’t run, Bam!” He hears Jaebum delightfully call. Bambam whines, trudging through and looking like a stupid spider with his legs stomping up and down.

 

“Hyung, please!” Bambam begs.

 

Jaebum slides down the slope with the ball over his head, laughing like a madman. Even from here, the dark and evil glint in his eye can be seen. _Hyung is so ugly,_ Bambam’s face slowly morphs into horror. When Jaebum finally gets close enough for Bambam to get a direct hit, Bambam unleashes his first and final throw, aimed straight for Jaebum’s forehead.

 

It lands beautifully.

 

“Hah! I got you, hyung –!”

 

And then a meteor knocks him down.

 

The next thing he recalls, his entire face hurts and he’s flat on his back, Jaebum cracking up loudly above him and clutching his poor red face. Bambam whimpers in pain, half laughing at the fact that that big snowball really hit him. He raises his hands up to his eyes, trying to brush away the dirt that’s prickling him and causing him to cry.

 

“Hyung, you’re so mean!” Bambam wails. He can’t really move much. Jaebum’s weight is pinning him down.

 

“I’m sorry,” Jaebum only laughs harder. “I’m sorry.” He helps Bambam blow away the dirt in his eyes, but then Bambam’s face just keeps getting redder and he nearly spits on his face with the new burst of snickers. Bambam whines again and kicks his legs from underneath. He finally opens his eyes and sees Jaebum’s pure Cheshire grin. It’s really great to see someone so happy over his misery.

 

“You’re the worst.”

 

It only makes the smile grow bigger.

 

“I’m sorry,” he repeats over and over, peppering kisses on Bambam’s face in between each pause. “I knew it wasn’t you.”

 

Now Bambam just feels wronged. It must’ve evidently shown in his unconscious pout, because Jaebum’s eyes soften to the point of melting and he dives down to kiss him long and hard, stealing all the breath Bambam never had in the first place. The hands on his face curve under to run through the hairs on his nape, lifting his head up yet leaving him feeling heavy with want.

 

Bambam gets pressed down to the snow as Jaebum devours him completely, teeth raking on his full bottom lip and tongue slipping deep into his mouth. Bambam is taken off-guard and unprepared – all he can do is gasp and moan as Jaebum crashes full-force into him, helpless for a good minute until Jaebum breaks off for air barely an inch away. Bambam loops his arms around Jaebum’s middle, panting. Their breaths mingle hotly, fanning across their cheeks as they stare at each other’s red, wet lips, instantly pulled in and connecting once again. Kissing Jaebum sometimes feels like a battle – if it’s not the questionable act itself that’s bothering him on the most somber of days, then it’s the way he drowns in the aggressiveness of the older man’s pursuit, the way he pushes and takes much more than he gives. Jaebum kisses with unrelenting fervor – he’s all in or nothing, never in between. He kisses like he has something to prove – something to win. Bambam doesn’t know what to make of that, or why Jaebum is trying so hard when he’s sure that everything he could have ever wanted is already in his hands. (Is Bambam _not_ within his clutches? Not his to hold and not his to touch?)

 

Bambam tries to slow him down to a pace he can match by forcing more frequent breaks, turning his head away as best he can. Jaebum ends up only catching the corner of his lips this way and it must frustrate him – if the low growl from the depths of his throat is any indication. Bambam tightens his embrace and splays his hand in between Jaebum’s shoulder blades soothingly. He sucks on Jaebum’s upper lip gently, barely any pressure at all, then slowly licks his way in. _Slow down_ , Bambam wills. _Slow down_. They shiver at the hot and wet contact of tongue, breaths hitching and chests constricting. Jaebum seems to have gotten the message now, letting Bambam take the lead and just languidly moving along. Bambam can feel his muscles relax beneath his hand, can feel more of his weight pinning him down naturally compared to the driving force of before. It’s infinitely better this way, the equal push and pull of their lingering mouths a feverish dance.

 

But as much as the warmth of Jaebum’s body on top of him is pleasant, the ice beneath him isn’t. Bambam eventually has to pull away in discomfort, shivering. “I’m cold,” he mutters weakly, and that’s all it takes for Jaebum to carry him up to his feet and back into the car, where he blasts the heater and lets Bambam warm up his icy white hands on his neck. Jaebum looks at him tenderly, features soft. Between this and his sweet words, Bambam doesn’t know which is worse. They’re both so loud in ways Bambam doesn’t know how to handle.

 

“C’mon, let’s warm you up with hot cocoa,” Jaebum reaches over to stroke his platinum hair. And as expected, Jaebum curls his fingers around his ear, tucking behind some stray hair that Bambam is sure isn’t there. Bambam tries not to get flustered. For some reason, it feels dangerous.

 

Bambam quietly sucks in a breath and retracts his hands.

 

“That’s it? I ate enough snow to count as a meal and that’s all I get?” Bambam huffs in his seat.

 

“I’ll buy you anything you want,” Jaebum says instead. That’s better.

 

Bambam points towards the road, signaling Jaebum to drive to their next destination. “Alright – you said it! I’m going to leave you bankrupt!”

 

Where they end up next is a small and cozy café and Bambam takes up on Jaebum’s offer to get him anything he wanted – which is just a warm taro milk tea. Bambam’s not a monster. It’s the only thing he orders and the only thing he insists on getting, shaking his head at every little pastry Jaebum points out. The older man must feel a lot guiltier about the snowball than he had already claimed because he keeps staring at Bambam with these glimmering eyes, waiting to pounce on whatever that might pique Bambam’s interest. Oh please. Bambam was mad for like, a whole 0.02 seconds, until Jaebum – well. It’s probably not a good idea to think too deeply about that now.

 

They sit on high chairs at a table for two near a window, where Jaebum crosses his arms and looks outside and Bambam quickly swipes through all of the notifications on his phone. He has a lot of new messages from the group chat, but he saves them for later in favor of scrolling through instagram. When their drinks come, Bambam holds out a ‘v’ sign and snaps a picture of Jaebum mid-sip in the background. The fairy lights that line the wall behind him make him glow. It’s a good picture.

 

“Look!” Bambam shows him right away, smiling. “Yaaah, as expected of a person with an eye for art.” He boasts smugly, waddling in his seat happily as he tries on all the different filters.

 

Jaebum raises an eyebrow, leaning back. “A masterpiece’s not so hard to create when the subject is already so refined.” At least he has the decency to laugh into his fist after.

 

Bambam stops in his tracks, lips curling evilly – “You know what’s a real masterpiece?” He scrunches his eyebrows and juts out his jaw the farthest it will go. He deepens his voice, “‘ _Tell hyung you’re sorry._ ’”

 

“Yah –!”

 

“‘ _You can’t run, Bam!’_ ” Bambam really wants to laugh, but keeping his jaw out is definitely top priority.

 

“That’s not what I look like!” Jaebum argues, but he too looks amused by the impersonation.

 

Bambam turns his head so that his profile can be seen. The moment he does, Jaebum lunges over his seat to “teach him a lesson” and Bambam cracks up, unable to hold it in anymore. He almost dunks his chin into his milk tea, but it’s Jaebum who knocks over the hot chocolate with his elbow as he grabs Bambam’s nape into a headlock. Jaebum scrambles off his seat then, looking flighty and clumsy as he tries to wipe up the mess with a single napkin. It soaks up immediately, and any other attempt to wipe the hot chocolate merely pushes the liquid off the table and onto the floor.

 

Bambam just cackles as he watches the scene unfold, a waitress waltzing over with a towel to put Jaebum out of his misery. They both apologize for the mess, and she’s even kind enough to offer a replacement on the house. Jaebum refuses profusely – at this point, he must be incredibly embarrassed. For all of his impeccable fashion and high status, his chic and aloof demeanor has been nothing but diffused and trashed upon all day. Not to mention the fact that the waitress is gazing at him pitifully and glancing at Bambam as if they’re teenagers on a bad date. Bambam gulps down the rest of his drink and gets on his feet, a puzzled Jaebum mindlessly doing the same.

 

“Let’s go get dinner, hyung. I know a really good stew place.”

 

Bambam insists on walking – because it’s such a hole in a wall that no parking space would be around anyway. It’s a place he frequently visits with Jimin after they procrastinate for too long and work at the library until they get kicked out at closing hour. With the rapidly dropping temperature, the hot soup and steaming rice would be greatly appreciated.

 

“You’re not dressed warm enough for walking,” Jaebum comments when a particularly cold wind drafts between them and causes Bambam to unconsciously tighten his hold on Jaebum’s arm. Bambam pouts defiantly. He has on a million and one thermals underneath (actually, two); he can tough it out. For fashion. He really liked his outfit today. Bambam’s not going to be caught looking anything but top notch any time of the year, weather be damned.

 

“I’m fine, it’s only like, a block away,” he waves his hand around in the general direction. It’s a lot closer to two blocks than one, but Jaebum doesn’t have to know that. Bambam takes a step forward only to be roughly recoiled backward due to Jaebum’s feet planted firmly on the ground. They swivel around and suddenly Bambam finds himself in the same café as five minutes ago, blinking blankly at Jaebum as he gently pushes his shoulder down into a seat.

 

“Wait here, I’m getting you a coat.”

 

He leaves before Bambam can say anything, so Bambam awkwardly settles in his seat, watching his hyung walk briskly in the snow and trying to avoid the waitress from earlier. Luckily he doesn’t take too long, stepping into the door with a gigantic parka in one hand and a red scarf in the other. After he gets shoved into said parka and red scarf wrapped around his head like a mummy, Bambam stares at his faint reflection in the glass. He looks like the kids earlier in the afternoon – bubble-wrapped into a ball.

 

“There,” Jaebum smiles, looking satisfied with his handiwork. “Let’s go.”

 

They have a slow and quiet dinner over kimchi stew and heaps of side dishes. The owner there had been carrying dirty dishes into the back when she saw Bambam walk in, immediately exclaiming, “Where have you been!” And he smiled sheepishly as she dropped all those dishes into the sink with a splash of water and came right back fussing over his ever skinny frame, chastising his new hair color. She talked a mile a minute, obviously glad to see him, until her eyes landed on Jaebum.

 

“New friend?”

 

Bambam could only nod, hiding behind the red scarf.

 

The tables are small, barely fitting all of the dishes, and the stools are hard and short, but the food is so good and cheap that it justifies any shortcoming that the eye can see. Plus, the auntie is fond of Bambam so the rice always piles high, refills given without question. They have such a good time that Bambam almost forgets Jaebum’s upbringing, suddenly astonished at how natural he is in this kind of environment. He shoves food in his mouth like Bambam does, accidentally hits his knee on table like Bambam does, and raises his hand to call over the auntie, smiling sweetly and thanking her respectfully like…

 

Bambam’s eyes glaze over with amazement, more so than any other time he had seen the luxury embellishing Jaebum’s life. Jaebum’s like any other normal person. It’s so easy to forget that, with all the distractions that come with him. It really shouldn’t come as a surprise, because Jaebum has been so honest since the very beginning. He might have the money, the car, the job, but the point is that he has never flaunted it, or acted any better than anyone else.

 

Jaebum finally notices his staring and looks between him and the frozen chopsticks in his hand, a piece of fried fish hanging off the end of it. He takes Bambam’s wrist and pulls it forward into his mouth, smiling mischievously as Bambam snaps out of his thoughts and lets out a cry. He hunches over his fish, protecting it.

 

“Eat your own fish, hyung!”

 

“Food for your thoughts?” He says instead.

 

Bambam fights the urge to roll his eyes, going right back into eating. He sighs at himself a moment later. He’s been really judgmental without realizing it. “I’ll be honest; I thought for a moment that you wouldn’t like it here.”

 

“Why not?”

 

He shrugs, wincing a little, “It’s not…up to your standard…?”

 

Jaebum gives him a hard look over his rice, understanding without needing much else. “I didn’t always have what I have now, you know.”

 

“Yeah – yeah, sorry, I shouldn’t have set expectations on you,” Bambam quickly apologizes. But the Im Financial Group has been around for generations – when would Jaebum ever not have anything upscale? He asks this, too curious to resist.

 

Jaebum rests his chin on his hand, smiling distantly. “When I was your age, I studied music.”

 

Now Bambam’s really surprised, eyebrows shooting up. “Music?” He would’ve never guessed.

 

Jaebum hums, nodding. “I was rebellious. Defiant. Stubborn. I didn’t want to inherit the company, and so I left home and scraped by on my own for college.”

 

“What happened? How come…” Bambam trails off.

 

“My father got sick for a few years, and Jinyoung roped me into manning up for the job. But ultimately, it was because I wanted my mother to stop hurting. She had always looked so sad that time. I have a duty as their son.”

 

Bambam falls quiet; his eyes turn downwards, not knowing what to say. A chuckle catches his attention, and he looks up to see his hyung’s warm and comforting smile.

 

“Don’t be sad – it was a long time ago. I’m not unhappy or anything.”

 

“Then are you happy, Jaebum hyung?”

 

“I don’t know,” he says cryptically. Bambam feels incredibly lucky to be able to study and work on what he loves.

 

They move onto a much lighter topic and finish their dinner. At the thought of the bill, Bambam stands up so fast he almost gets dizzy. He demands that Jaebum sit right there, marching over to the cash register and preparing himself to suck up to the auntie…as if she needed any more to begin with. Bambam compliments her food and comments on her youthful appearance, to which she clicks her tongue, squinting at him but fighting off a smile.

 

“Yah, you think I don’t know what you’re doing? You naughty boy,” she pinches his cheek. Bambam giggles and that’s all it takes to weaken her resolve. The bill comes out even cheaper than usual, even though both him and Jaebum have eaten more than any other times he’s been with his friends. Bambam’s about to thank her when the next sentence catches him off-guard. “He’s a nice young man.”

 

“Huh?”

 

She tilts her head towards Jaebum. “You look good.” _Together_.

 

Bambam blushes. “No – uhm – well…” Well. It’s complicated anyway.

 

When she lets him go, Bambam ushers Jaebum out the door, shoving his face into the red scarf that’s probably the same color as his face. If Jaebum notices, he doesn’t mention anything about it, just watches fondly until the color fades from his peeping ears. It’s dark out now, and the snow hasn’t stopped falling.

 

“I have just one more place I want to take you,” Jaebum says in the car, to which Bambam agrees to immediately. He didn’t want to go home anyway. Besides, he had just one more thing to do as well. He glances at the bag that Jaebum pulls out of the trunk, mentally high-fiving himself for predicting this. Bambam didn’t come empty-handed either.

 

Now, he really didn’t want Changkyun to be right – but wow. They really _are_ going to see the Christmas lights like some lovey-dovey couple. In fact, the streets are nothing but saturated in heart-shaped eyes twinkling in delight over the Christmas music playing in the public speakers and bright, colorful lights lining every nook and cranny in decorative scenes. Everything about the atmosphere is magical, from the white cascade of snowflakes to the warmth of his hands to the lightness in his chest. Christmas is really so different like this.

 

They stop in front of a center with a giant Christmas tree, where tons of other visitors are crowding around for pictures and various other things. A spot opens up around the perimeter of the tree, and Bambam hops over to steal the seat on the ledge before anyone else can. Jaebum follows him, and clears his throat upon sitting down.

 

“We didn’t agree to get each other anything, and you certainly don’t owe me anything but – ah. I got you a gift,” he states the obvious.

 

Bambam holds his breath in trepidation as Jaebum reaches into the bag. It better not be some outrageously priced gift because the lord knows his broke ass can’t even _compare_ – a neatly wrapped rectangle comes out.

 

“Open it,” Jaebum looks at him expectedly.

 

Bambam takes it from his hand gingerly, flipping it around and making guesses. It could be a book. He knows Jaebum is an avid reader and might’ve wanted to recommend him something but oh boy, the only books Bambam reads are fashion catalogues and those are more pictures than words. Bambam peels off the tape, careful not to rip the wrapping paper. It could be designer. Who knows?

 

Bambam pulls the gift out, grinning both in happiness and relief when he sees what it is. It’s a large leather-bound Moleskine.

 

“It’s a smart notebook.” Jaebum helps him flip it to the back, where “Bambam” is engraved to the leather. “You can do all your sketches here and digitize them with the app. I thought you might like it.”

 

“Like it?” Bambam gushes, flipping through the hundreds of pages. “I love it! Thank you so much!” It’s a wonderful, truly thoughtful gift. He’s already excited at the thought of having all of his designs in it and not having to scan his work every time he wants to submit it for work.

 

“Merry Christmas.”

 

“Hyung, you’re the best,” he hugs Jaebum. Bambam digs into his inner pocket, where he’s been hiding his gift all day. “I got you something too – it’s nowhere as good but…I tried.” He fishes out a small, flat box with a ribbon, handing it over shyly. He hopes Jaebum likes it.

 

Bambam draws in his lips, watching his reaction closely. Jaebum opens it – and smiles widely. Bambam breathes out. That’s good. Smiling is good. He got Jaebum a pair of silver earrings, detailed with stars. He knows it’s not much, but he couldn’t think of anything else that Jaebum could’ve wanted or needed. And if he did, he really didn’t have the budget for it at the moment and in the end had to settle for something small.

 

“Merry Christmas,” Bambam repeats.

 

Jaebum looks at him – and if Bambam were to be gross, he’d say that stars were in his eyes, hah – and squeezes his hand. “This is wonderful. I’ll wear them tomorrow.”

 

“You don’t have to,” Bambam says, only to be silenced with a peck on the forehead.

 

“I want to.”

 

Alright! That went _fantastic_ ; Bambam managed to get a gift that not only Jaebum liked, but was also of _equal value_. He couldn’t have been prouder.

 

Bambam can’t help the smugness from emerging on his face. It’s a personal victory. Now that the gift exchange is over and he’s had an amazing day, Bambam can go home in peace and be satisfied with every aspect of it –

 

“I have something else for you.”

 

Oh dear god.

 

Jaebum pulls out a Cartier box.

 

 _Oh dear god_ , Bambam pales.

 

The parka he’s been wearing this whole time is slipped off his frame, making the slide of the rest of his clothes up his arm much easier. Bambam shakes.

 

The box opens up to reveal a thin golden bracelet with a moon charm glittering in the center of the plush, white padding. Jaebum removes it from the box and opens the clasp, moving it towards Bambam’s wrist.

 

 _Fuck, fuck, fUCK_ – and there it is. A beautiful, golden string worth literally his next year of college and probably three entire paychecks hanging off his tiny little wrist. It’s small and absolutely gorgeous and weighs like a million tons on his wrist – it’s not too late to cut off his limb right?

 

“It’s made just for you. Do you like it?”

 

Bambam audibly swallows, sweating and pulling on a strained smile.

 

“Mhm!”

 

-

 

Bambam goes home and screams for a long, long, _long_ , time.

 

-

 

The most obvious thing to do, of course, _is to hide the fucking bracelet_. How could Bambam just casually wear it around on his wrist, allowing _everyone_ to see it and just saying, “Oh, Jaebum hyung got it for me for Christmas,” shamelessly? Jumping down a volcano suddenly seems like the better option. So by the time Yugyeom comes home and jumps on top of his curled up form under the blankets, the Cartier bracelet is already deep in the back of his closet and under two whole mountains of dirty laundry. He hasn’t even read any of the group messages yet, but Yugyeom is already on top of the game, eyes immediately catching the sketchbook and bright red scarf on Bambam’s desk. He makes crazy screeching noises, to which Bambam groans at.

 

“Guys, look at this!”

 

“ _Ooooooh, he’s sensible – I like him!_ ” Jimin’s voice comes from the video call. “ _I’ve always wanted that!_ ”

 

It’s all just a blur from there, Bambam drowning in his thoughts instead and giving noncommittal grunts of affirmation to whatever they ask him.

 

“ _I can’t do this,_ ” Bambam had blurted out in the ride back home. “ _I can’t keep this_.” And then he kept babbling on about all the reasons why he can’t accept such an expensive gift but he can’t remember if he made any sense or if Jaebum was really listening to him at all. At a red light, Jaebum had grabbed his hand and laced their fingers together, effectively stopping Bambam from trying to unclasp the bracelet.

 

“ _Just let me spoil you._ ”

 

“ _You can’t._ ”

 

“ _Why not?_ ”

 

“ _Because it’s wrong_.”

 

“ _Says who?_ ”

 

And Bambam wanted to scream that the entire world would say it’s wrong.

 

“ _I’m your hyung,_ ” Jaebum said firmly. “ _You just have to trust me_.”

 

-

 

Although Bambam’s face still twists every time he thinks about the back of the closet, the sketchbook, however, is a godsend. Aside from its functionality, his favorite part is sitting next to an inconspicuous intern at the office and flipping through it haughtily until they ask him what it is, to which he casually (excitedly) whips out his phone and shows them how it works. Technology is amazing.

 

Nana smacks his head as she walks by. “Get to work, boy.”

 

The next few days consists of him sitting at his desk with a pile of paperwork, in which his job is to read all the fine print and stick a post-it note of all the key points for his boss to skim over to sign or reject. For an official assistant designer, he doesn’t do a lot of designing. It might be because the preliminary stages are already over, so there’s no point for him to be doing anything but making the final checks – basically all the boring stuff he thought would be over when he stopped being an intern. So when Hani asks him if he wants to come with her and Nana to the shooting studio, he jumps onto the opportunity and sweeps all of his belongings into his bag with one arm. He’s bouncing in the backseat of Nana’s car before either of them has reached the door.

 

After reaching their destination, they step out of the car and Nana tosses Bambam her keys. “Get the clothes out of the trunk.” Hani smiles at him and trails after Nana, the two of them heading to the elevator where they’ll be in the basement with some models.

 

The moment he opens the trunk, he realizes the reason why they asked him to come. There are dozens of vinyl garment bags stuffed to the brim – it’s a miracle that the trunk even closed in the first place. Bambam has to dodge a flying clothes hanger that’s popping out of a bag bursting at the seams. Bambam takes as many as his arms can carry, but even then – he moans halfway to the elevator, feeling one of the bag slipping in the middle and barely catching it with his leg – it would take at least five trips. He can barely see the buttons on the elevator and nearly trips twice down in the basement on the first trip alone. Nana is busy talking to the photographer when he shuffles in, back bent to support all the weight. She takes one glance at him and points her pen to a room way in the back, a maze of dividers placed in front of it.

 

It didn’t look too bad until he actually had to try to fit through the tiny space between the dividers – why were they there in the first place? Bambam struggles to get one hand free to open the door.

 

“Where do I put – AHHH!” Bambam drops all the clothes and covers his eyes, bowing down haphazardly in apology. It’s the female fitting room. “Sorry! Sorry – uhm, shit – sorry!” Bambam doesn’t know whether to pick up all the clothes he dropped or push it inside before closing the door.

 

“Bam-ah, it’s okay! You can come in you know,” Hani’s eyes twinkle in amusement.

 

“Right,” Bambam blushes. The models are laughing at him. “I’ll go get the rest.” He accidentally slams the door in his haste to get out of there, embarrassing himself further. He’ll be honest – all of his past experiences with entering small competitions and the university’s fashion show have all been with menswear. And when he did feature women’s wear, he had never stepped into the female fitting room, always asking Jimin for a favor to help him. Plus, all the models were his friends or acquaintances. All of the models in that room had features so strikingly editorial it could cut him right open.

 

Bambam manages to bring in all the clothes in three instead of the estimated five trips. Hani helps him put them all on a rack and unzip the bags, revealing each and every outfit identical to its original design – Bambam would know. He’s traced them over and over for the past month. Suddenly, it strikes him hard. One of _his_ is in there.

 

Every zipper he pulls down is with a held breath now, heart thumping wildly in his chest. As fate would have it, it’s the last one he pulls down that’s his. Bambam bites his lip, eyes prickling.

 

There it is.

 

There’s the satin grid blouse with trumpet bell sleeves and matching midi skirt. It’s his first official product with a brand sown onto the back.

 

“Is it just how you imagined it?” Hani softly asks.

 

“Yeah,” Bambam replies with wonder, breaking into a bright smile.

 

Hani pats him on the back and lets him stare at it some more, plucking off other outfits for fitting. In a few moments, he sucks in one last breath and takes it off the rack as well, following Hani’s direction. Bambam adapts quickly, taking mental notes of how efficiently she works and how gentle but definite she is in getting her way. In a blink of an eye, the last model has stepped out of the room for Nana’s evaluation. Bambam and Hani step outside and watch the photo shoot from the sidelines, camera lights shuttering rapidly. After hours of touch-ups and adjustments, a handful of models stay behind to practice their walk under Nana’s critical eye.

 

“Bam,” she curls her finger at him. He rushes over. “When do you start school again?”

 

“The 9th of January.”

 

“Can you take a week off starting on the 15th?”

 

Bambam hesitates. Well, it’s not like he _has_ to attend class but a week is an awful lot different than just skipping a day. “I think I can…?”

 

Nana nods. “Good. Now,” she smiles slowly, “what do you say about coming with me to Hong Kong Fashion Week?”

 

Bambam’s mouth drops. The angels are singing.

 

“I think you broke the baby,” Hani covers her laugh.

 

“How come he always looks so dumb whenever I look at him,” Nana frowns. She squishes his cheeks with one hand, causing his mouth to close and his lips to pucker up like a fish. “You coming, kid?”

 

Bambam bobs his head in her hand, eyes glittering. “Noona…!” He fake-cries and makes himself small enough for a hug. It’s Nana’s turn to turn into a JPEG this time, arms awkwardly hovering in the air and eyes darting to Hani for help. Hani smiles warmly at the wonderful picture of Nana smacking Bambam away from her. She’s really taken him under her wing.

 

Bambam gets home much later than usual that night, having to clean up the studio and catch a quick dinner. But he’s so high on euphoria that he can’t even feel the tire that will hit him deep in his bones later when he hits the bed. The apartment is completely dark save for Yugyeom’s room, a dim light peeping out of his door. Yugyeom’s not awake – he has a habit of sleeping with the lights on whenever he’s alone in the house. Bambam doesn’t bother keeping quiet as he dashes through the hallway.

 

“Gyeom, Gyeom, Kim Yugyeom!”

 

Yugyeom wakes up abruptly via a hyper boy knocking the air out of his lungs. Yugyeom whines and rolls over, taking Bambam’s weight with him. Bambam continues chattering right by his ear.

 

“Gyeom! Guess what?”

 

“What,” Yugyeom says sleepily, eyes closed.

 

“Your face.”

 

Yugyeom shoves his face into his pillow. “So annoying.” Bambam can see him smile so it’s okay.

 

“No, no, for real this time, guess what?”

 

“What.”

 

“You have to guess.”

 

Yugyeom lifts his face up – whether to whine or to breathe, it’s the same thing. “ _Bambam_.”

 

Bambam laughs breathlessly, collapsing on Yugyeom’s back. He pulls up his phone and shows Yugyeom the picture of him next to his design. “I’m going to Hong Kong with this. It was one of the few to be selected for the runway.”

 

It takes a moment for Yugyeom to process this, much how it took Bambam probably twice as long to realize what this means.

 

“Oh my god.”

 

“Oh my god,” Bambam agrees.

 

“I’m _so proud of you_.”

 

“Thank you,” he says softly. “Thanks for cheering me on, always. Now go sleep.”

 

Yugyeom drifts off easily; Bambam turns off the lights on the way out. He washes up and sinks into his bed with a dreamy smile on his face. The exhaustion is hitting him now, melting his body into the sheets. A pleasant hum reverberates throughout his body – his day honestly couldn’t get better.

 

He must’ve forgotten to turn off his phone, because he wakes up to his ringtone only what must be an hour later.

 

“Mm?” He mumbles into the speaker.

 

“ _Oh – I woke you up. I’m sorry._ ”

 

Bambam sits up, barely half-awake. “…Hyung?”

 

“ _I just saw your texts after work. Can you come outside?_ ”

 

And he must’ve been out of his mind to do so, dressed in his penguin set pajamas and half of his blanket dragging on the floor. Bambam thinks it must be a dream when he opens the front door and the porch light blinds him for a split second, slowly settling down until Jaebum visualizes in front of him. Windswept hair, tired dark orbs, loose black tie, suit jacket swung over a wide sloping shoulder. A sweet smile curling up, the stars behind them shooting down.

 

It’s surreal.

 

Jaebum brings a cold hand up to his cheek, and Bambam shivers at the contact, closing his eyes with a flutter.

 

“Congratulations,” Jaebum whispers, stepping inside.

 

Bambam lets him in, but it still must all be a dream.

 

“You’re crazy,” Bambam sighs as Jaebum closes the distance between them.

 

“I’m crazy,” Jaebum agrees, and there’s a look in his eyes that Bambam can’t decipher right now.

 

 _I’m crazy, too_ , he thinks as Jaebum snakes his arms around his waist, bending down and pressing their lips together.

 

They stumble backward, Bambam steering the way until he steps on his own blanket and slips. Jaebum catches him in one swoop, causing his heart to skip at how easy Jaebum makes it look. He picks him up like it’s nothing, hand pulling Bambam’s thigh up so that thin legs wrap around his waist, arms looping around his head. Now that Bambam is off his feet and their lips can’t meet anymore, Jaebum settles for nosing at his neck, sucking on his soft skin and licking the red aftermath.

 

“…Hyung!” Bambam gasps at a particular spot on his nape where it meets the curve of his shoulder. He’s ticklish there, and the full assault of Jaebum’s hot mouth sends a shock down his spine and right back up into his fingertips. He has to slap a hand over his mouth to keep quiet, the other hand unconsciously tightening around Jaebum’s hair. Bambam’s heart hammers and his body quivers as Jaebum quickly takes advantage of his weak spot, lingering on his nape and blowing hot air on the wet trails of his kisses to raise marked skin and to force an arch on Bambam’s tense back. “Hyung,” he whimpers with a hitch in his breath. His eyes are squeezed shut, only relaxing when the suction on his skin stops. The effect is felt immediately, and Bambam’s head spins as he reels in how intensely Jaebum can make him feel, how pliant and meek he becomes under his hyung’s unrelenting attention.

 

“Hyung’s right here,” Jaebum murmurs beneath his ear, breathing in deeply. Bambam can feel Jaebum’s grip tightening on him, pressing them together so close it almost hurts. He drags his lips down his jaw and then up to the corner of Bambam’s plush red lips, where Bambam automatically moves to slot them perfectly together. They drink each other in just like that, hungry and primal. When Bambam pulls back and watches the string of saliva between them break, licking his lips and eyes flickering up to meet Jaebum’s, time stops for that one moment.

 

Bambam holds in his breath at Jaebum’s dark and half-lidded eyes, hazy and tense yet overflowing with clarity in what he wants.

 

 _It’s me_. Bambam’s heart pounds hard against his ribcage. _He wants me_.

 

His mind flashes back to that night long ago, when Bambam had been dressed to kill and found the very same pair of eyes pinned on him past all those moving bodies and blurred faces. The music had been bumping and the alcohol made them brave. He remembers the black business card and the way Jaebum’s name was branded onto the cardstock, silver and reflective in the lights.

 

And now here they are – with no music, no alcohol, and Bambam’s in his damn penguin pajamas, the un-sexiest thing one can have on right now. Yet some things remain frighteningly the same.

 

Their pulses are so loud and fast, music wouldn’t be heard anyway. What makes them brave has never been about the alcohol, but about the instantaneous and inevitable pull of their deep set attraction. What’s branded isn’t a name on a card, but a bite on golden skin.

 

Jaebum has wanted him since the beginning. The difference now is Bambam wants him too.

 

The realization is shattering, and his actions don’t feel like his own when he takes the plunge to claim Jaebum with a mark of his own. Bambam doesn’t have the confidence to bite so harshly the way Jaebum is prone to, but when he pulls back and looks at the blossoming red bruise, a lance of possessiveness plunders through his stomach. No wonder Jaebum is so fond of marking him up. Bambam feels Jaebum’s low growl vibrating more than he hears it, trembling in anticipation. With some guidance, Jaebum carries him to his room, making sure that the door is closed.

 

For all of that heated passion, Jaebum lays him down contrastingly gentle on his bed, hovering at the side until Bambam gives him the okay to come down. They have to squeeze tightly to fit, Bambam backing up to the wall until it’s decided that it’s unnecessary to do so – Jaebum just has to keep himself on top, elbows on both sides of Bambam’s head. He dips down to kiss him again, purposefully slow and languid as if to savor all the sweetness. As all of his sighs are swallowed, Bambam feels warmth spreading throughout his body. He feels good, he feels secure, and he feels so, so breathless. Not just from Jaebum stealing the air from between their lips, but from the budding flowers expanding his chest and the vice-like vines curling around his red, red heart. It’s constricting, yet liberating, and Bambam has never felt something so strongly before. They kiss for a long time there, holding each other tight. It’s so comfortable and so natural that Bambam eventually stops responding as eagerly, melting into his bed. Having his eyes closed in the dark for so long and being held so tenderly like this is making him drift off to sleep.

 

Jaebum must’ve noticed, because he pulls away for a second and looks at his drooping lids. Bambam is trying hard to stay awake, but the added effect of Jaebum caressing his head and stroking his cheekbone is lulling him further. Bambam blinks through the darkness, watching his hyung, watch him. Just when he thinks Jaebum is going to kiss him again, he murmurs,

 

“I like you.”

 

It’s so quiet that even that small whisper feels like it’s echoing off the walls, heavy, loud, and clear. Bambam can see the outline of Jaebum’s shoulders quaking. And then, their foreheads touch.

 

“I like you too, Bambam.” Jaebum’s voice is rough with emotion.

 

Bambam falls fast asleep tucked into the crook of Jaebum’s shoulder, blanket wrapped around the both of them.

 

(It’s dangerous. They’re only one step away from crashing down. It’s so easy to forget all their problems when they’re together, which makes it hurt so much more when they’re apart.)

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOL a Christmas date written in April :^) That's what I get for choosing a winter timeline OTL. Anyway, sorry for the drastically shorter length...I'm really trying to meet up to all of your expectations but I also don't want you to wait too long. (I know I definitely hate waiting lmao.) This was actually supposed to be part of a much longer part, but I have midterms coming up and if I post according to what /I/ consider to be pivotal points, it would probably take another month to release something OTL. So instead, enjoy all the softness!! Heh. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! I feel incredibly grateful for all the support!! ;~;


	3. do me good, do me right

 

 

“Mm?” Bambam makes a soft sound as a single breath brings him back to life, early daybreak sifting through white linen curtains. With Jaebum’s body slipping out from beneath him, the emptiness of his presence instantly brings in the cold air and quickly clears the haze of sleepiness. He feels himself being tucked in carefully, blanket curled all the way up to his neck and he’s warm again.

 

“Hey, baby,” Jaebum whispers sweetly, kissing the tip of his nose. Bambam smiles happily. “I have to leave for work. Didn’t mean to wake you up, though.”

 

“S’okay.”

 

Jaebum lingers at the bedside for a while, content to just watch Bambam wrap himself up until he’s small and cozy, a curled up bundle on the single bed. “Is it alright for me to wash up here?”

 

Bambam nods, “Of course. Last door on the hallway; there might be a spare toothbrush…somewhere in there?”

 

So Jaebum gives him one last kiss (because he can’t help himself) and bids him goodbye before shuffling out with a gentle twist of the doorknob. He’s still in his dress shirt and slacks from the previous day, though by now they’re both completely wrinkled and un-presentable. The black tie somehow manages to stay on his neck and the suit jacket must’ve been thrown off somewhere. He doesn’t know where.

 

Jaebum does find the supposed spare toothbrush, although with a bit of difficulty due to it being in the back of a drawer jam-packed with makeup and random razors. As he’s washing up, he can’t help but break into wide grins, clutching the edge of the sink to contain himself while recalling the events of last night in vivid detail. (Flashes of red throughout the night: red kissed lips, red flowering marks, red heated skin, and red sweet sighs. But most importantly, the three words that have been painted onto his chest and dripping down his veins: _I like you_. I like you. I like you, Jaebum thinks. And thinks and thinks. God, he’s become such a fool.)  He might’ve gotten only a few hours of sleep, but he feels light enough to take on the whole world.

 

Suddenly, the door is slapped open and in comes a closed-eye bumbling Yugyeom, yawning with his entire face and flipping the toilet seat up.

 

Yugyeom whips out his dick and pees.

 

“Oh, Bambam, you’re up early.”

 

Jaebum stares at Yugyeom with his mouth open, his body completely frozen with a toothbrush still in his mouth and toothpaste slowly dribbling from the corner. It takes a second before he realizes he shouldn’t be staring and he whips his head to face the mirror, silent and shocked. He can’t even bring himself to continue brushing his teeth.

 

“Bambam?”

 

Yugyeom opens his eyes, wondering why Bambam would stay silent when that boy is anything _but_ silent. Then again, it is pretty early in the morning and Bambam tends to be just a little grumpy -

 

Yugyeom looks at Jaebum.

 

Jaebum looks at Yugyeom.

 

And Yugyeom is still peeing.

 

Jaebum averts his eyes. “...Hi.” He turns his back and makes a vague gesture. “Feel free to finish up.”

 

The sound of Yugyeom trickling in the toilet is deafening in the quiet apartment. Yugyeom’s shoulders shake in horror, face like he’s about to explode. For fuck’s sake, _he’s still got his dick in his hand_.

 

The moment he finishes, he scrambles to pull up his pants and flush the toilet, completely flustered and clumsy in his panicked state.

 

“Oh my god - _what the fuck_ \- I mean, _sorry,_ I thought you were Bambam!”

 

“It’s fine, you wouldn’t have known. If anything, _I’m_ sorry for intruding.”

 

“No, _I’m_ sorry!” Yugyeom rambles, jumping on the balls of his feet and sticking his hand out in apology. Both he and Jaebum pale in revulsion at the outstretched hand the moment they remember where _it’s been_ and Yugyeom tries to make a recovery by reaching for the soap instead. He washes his hands in a frenzy while Jaebum furiously continues brushing his teeth and spitting out the foam, both reaching for the tap at the same time and leaping away at the contact.

 

“Sorry – you first.”

 

“No, no, go ahead it’s your place.”

 

“No, you go –!”

 

“No, you go –!”

 

“No – actually okay, okay, I’ll go first.” Yugyeom just really wants to get the fuck out of there.

 

Yugyeom doesn’t bother drying his hands on the towel, choosing instead to pull a fast corner on the hallway and run into his room, slamming the door shut. Jaebum speed-walks out as well, picking up his suit jacket from the floor of the living room on his way out of the apartment.

 

Bambam wakes up a second time that morning to a blood-curdling scream that’s awfully similar to a dying dolphin.

 

-

 

“What do you _mean_ you ‘whipped out your dick in front of my man’?”

 

“It means what it means!” Yugyeom cries, shoving his face into his pillow and kicking in agony. “I went to pee like always and I thought he was you!”

 

After Bambam spends a long time laughing and getting Yugyeom to calm down, they fall into a comfortable silence on Yugyeom’s bed. All is well, of course, until Yugyeom finally has the sense of mind to pick up on the implications of the most obvious fact: Jaebum stayed the night. _In Bambam’s room_. His head turns towards Bambam so fast it almost gives Bambam a heart attack, the action so sudden and sharp it could be straight out of a horror movie.

 

“Wait. What was he doing here?” Yugyeom’s wide eyes take on the red marks littered across his neck and collarbones for the first time. His mouth drops wide open while Bambam belatedly covers them up, also shocked that he didn’t even have half the mind to cover them up before leaving his room, even if it’s just Yugyeom. Not that Bambam is ashamed of them – he _likes_ them – but for some reason he can almost feel hot shame flaring up his ears as Yugyeom’s hard eyes stare them down underneath his hands.

 

“You…you’ve gone that far already?”

 

Bambam doesn’t know what else to do but nod.

 

Yugyeom seems to need a moment to take this information in, eyebrows wrinkled until he slowly relaxes. “Okay. Be careful. Don’t get hurt,” he says softly.

 

“I won’t,” Bambam reassures him, “Jaebum hyung treats me really well.”

 

“As he should.” After a pause, Yugyeom blinks in wonder. “Wow…he’s your first…”

 

_First what?_ Bambam tilts his head in confusion. Before he can vocalize it, Yugyeom starts again.

 

“Hey, tell me what happened yesterday. I wanna hear all about your work.”

 

Bambam’s eyes light up, and warmth spreads from the deepest cavity of his heart. Yugyeom is truly the greatest friend he’ll ever have. So he steals Yugyeom’s blanket to get comfortable in and starts off from the very beginning of the day, including all the unnecessary details he knows Yugyeom won’t care about but will smile and laugh at anyway because Bambam likes to be dramatic. Yugyeom listens to everything, and they talk for hours and hours until their grumbling stomachs finally lead them out of bed. He doesn’t even realize when he shifted from talking about his designs to talking about Jaebum instead, but Yugyeom doesn’t comment on it, just eats their microwaved lunch together on the dining table and looks at all the pictures Bambam swipes through.

 

He’s never seen Bambam like this. Him talking about his “crush” isn’t new; what’s new is how blushy and giggly he gets even without some prodding. Bambam has always been beautiful – but now, he just _glows_.

 

Maybe it’s all that smiling of his.

 

-

 

A hard-hitting beat is filling up the dance studio, Yugyeom’s fast footwork squeaking against the polished floor and setting fire beneath his feet. Meanwhile, Bambam is lazily scrolling through his phone on the bench, taking a break after a few numbers with Yugyeom. Bambam likes dancing, but he doesn’t like sweating and he definitely doesn’t like being tired. The break started around half an hour ago, though.

 

**me**

[Wed, Jan. 4, 7:44PM]

I’m bored~ :(

 

**Jaebum hyung**  

[Wed, Jan. 4, 7:50PM]

go study

 

Bambam scoffs. Is his hyung so old that he doesn’t remember what it’s like to be a student anymore? Nobody studies over the break. Except maybe Youngjae.

 

**me**

[Wed, Jan. 4, 7:51PM]

no

hyung, I’m on break!!

break =/= studying!!

 

**Jaebum hyung**  

[Wed, Jan. 4, 7:53PM]

then go play with Yugyeom

 

**me**

[Wed, Jan. 4, 7:53PM]

Yugyeom’s too busy playing with himself

 

**Jaebum hyung**  

[Wed, Jan. 4, 7:54PM]

…

what

 

**me**

[Wed, Jan. 4, 7:55PM]

his dancing is too hard

I don’t wanna learn all that

 

**Jaebum hyung**  

[Wed, Jan. 4, 7:56PM]

oh

right

 

**me**

[Wed, Jan. 4, 7:57PM]

what are you doing??

 

**Jaebum hyung**  

[Wed, Jan. 4, 7:57PM]

working

 

**me**

[Wed, Jan. 4, 7:57PM]

still? :(

you work overtime so often

don’t you get tired?

 

**Jaebum hyung**  

[Wed, Jan. 4, 7:58PM]

I’m trying to finish things up early

then I can have the weekend off

 

Bambam vaguely hears Yugyeom’s request for water and chucks a bottle at him, looking right back down to his phone.

 

**me**

[Wed, Jan. 4, 8:01PM]

hyung~~~

I’m still bored

 

**Jaebum hyung**  

[Wed, Jan. 4, 8:01PM]

don’t bother me, I’m busy

 

**me**

[Wed, Jan. 4, 8:02PM]

but you’re still replying~

 

**Jaebum hyung**  

[Wed, Jan. 4, 8:02PM]

I can’t just ignore you

 

**me**

[Wed, Jan. 4, 8:02PM]

!!

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

 

**Jaebum hyung**  

[Wed, Jan. 4, 8:03PM]

cause your notifications are annoying

 

**me**

[Wed, Jan. 4, 8:03PM]

!!

>:(

fiNE

 

**Jaebum hyung**  

[Wed, Jan. 4, 8:03PM]

ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

 

**Jaebum hyung**  

[Wed, Jan. 4, 8:05PM]

♥

 

**me**

[Wed, Jan. 4, 8:07PM]

♥

 

“Bam, what’s the point of you coming if you’re just going to be on your phone the whole time?”

 

“Of course there’s a point – I’m here to help you practice.”

 

Yugyeom looks unamused. “How.”

 

“By giving you spirit! WOOOOO, KIM YUGYEOM, YOU’RE SO COOL.” Bambam cups his hands around his mouth as a makeshift loudspeaker.

 

“Let’s just go home,” Yugyeom shakes his head. He quickly wipes off his sweat and shoves all of his belongings into his duffel bag. Bambam holds the door for him as they head out, Yugyeom turning off all the lights and locking the studio up. “Do you want to come again tomorrow? I’m going to teach a class with Hoseok hyung; maybe it’ll be more fun then.”

 

“I’ve got nothing better to do,” Bambam shrugs.

 

It’s been a slow break after all the holidays were over. None of their friends are back from their trips yet and Changkyun, who initially was supposed to be part of their pitiful no-lives crew, ended up ditching them for a getaway on Jeju Island with his roommate Wonho and some others. So now it’s just Bambam and Yugyeom off to fend for themselves through copious amounts of ramen and binge-watching anime. It’s even gotten to the point where they basically tail each other everywhere on individual errands: from roaming the nightlife with Yugyeom looking for dance battles to driving to a warehouse in the middle of nowhere for Bambam to hoard a bunch of fabrics on sale. It’s slow, but it’s also relaxing and reminiscent of their first year when all they had was each other.

 

Bambam’s aimlessly sketching at his desk around midnight when the sudden idea of researching the Im Financial Group crosses his mind. (Alright, it might not be so sudden. He’s been purposefully staying up just in case his hyung wants to talk for a few minutes before bed. One thought led to the other and what was supposed to be some rough sketches on a summer collection turned into hearts scattered around a caricature of Jaebum’s jaw jutting out. Bambam’s waiting for Jaebum to blow up his phone about the picture, which he thinks will be hilarious.)

 

He starts off his search with Naver and instantly a million articles pop up. Most of them are about business deals and – apparently, with great buzz – the recent increase in shareholding of Lotte group. There’s a lot of terms and information that Bambam doesn’t know anything about, but he can be sure of one thing: Im Jaebum looks downright _fine_ in a classic black suit.

 

Jaebum doesn’t show up in many pictures; he’s not a celebrity. But his name is certainly thrown around frequently in articles, many of which concern his upcoming inheritance of the company and what that could mean for future prospects. It’s mostly positive press, and Bambam feels amazed just looking at the long list of achievements. He could imagine being even more astounded if he could fully grasp the weight of each bullet point. For now, all he’s getting is that Jaebum is impressive. And impressively getting richer.

 

About an hour later and his head full of numbers and percentages, Bambam finally finds a link that leads to a brief profile of Jaebum.

 

It’s mostly trivia and things Bambam already knows from all that time spent talking together, like his parents, his education, and his birthday –

 

Wait.

 

Bambam squints at the date on the profile.

 

January 6.

 

And what’s today?

 

January 5th, now that it’s past midnight.

 

Bambam springs up from his seat so fast he knocks his knee against the edge of the table, hissing when the searing pain makes his sore skin throb.

 

“ _Fuck_!”

 

Why didn’t Jaebum say anything? What if Bambam never happened to be bored enough to search him up just now? But would there be a point to finding out so late? It’s not like Bambam can hop in the car and hit up the mall for a gift in the morning – for one, getting a gift for Jaebum is _hard_. Everything within his budget feels inadequate and everything that _might_ meet a few of his standards is out of his budget. Which, of course, brings up the second point: Bambam’s been broke since the meaning of broke was invented. Christmas was quite recent, too, and he had already skimped out on a few meals to buy presents for everyone. (Not that they need to know.) It won’t be another week until he gets his paycheck.

 

Okay, so material gifts are out of the question.

 

The fuck is Bambam going to do, pop by with a ribbon and say, “Hyung, _I’m_ your gift”?

 

If Bambam were Jaebum, he’d punch Bambam.

 

For the next half hour, Bambam broods and agonizes over what he can possibly do for his hyung. It would ideally be something within his capabilities, but also special in meaning. Jaebum wouldn’t expect anything out of him, so he has the element of surprise on his side at least. Even so, Bambam doesn’t want to half-ass it – he wants to show that he cares. Because he really, really wants to put effort in building whatever it is they have.

 

Bambam stares at the ceiling. He could cook for Jaebum – would he like that? His skills might be rusty; it’s been a while since he’s had time to dish out a full-blown meal since he and Yugyeom are always out at different times lately and it’s lonely to cook for just one. Bambam sits up, head rapidly sifting through all the recipes he knows by heart. It could work.

 

There’s only one hitch in his plan: Jaebum will be working the entire day and if Bambam wants it to be a surprise, he’s going to have to be in the condo, cooking away until he comes home for the grand reveal. Jaebum’s condo has fingerprint access, and Bambam, having only been there once, is definitely not registered. He’ll have to devise a plan for him to already _be_ in the condo by Friday morning. Fantastic.

 

**me**

[Thu, Jan. 5, 1:37AM]

ARE YOU UP

 

**me**

[Thu, Jan. 5, 1:39AM]

HELP

 

**me**

[Thu, Jan. 5, 1:41AM]

HEY HELMET HEAD

 

**Kookie**

[Thu, Jan. 5, 1:41AM]

if there was the slightest chance I was actually going to help you

it’s gone now

 

**me**

[Thu, Jan. 5, 1:42AM]

oh good you’re up

when are you coming back

 

**Kookie**

[Thu, Jan. 5, 1:42AM]

friday

 

**me**

[Thu, Jan. 5, 1:42AM]

can you come back tomorrow night

or, well, today

as in Thursday

 

**Kookie**

[Thu, Jan. 5, 1:43AM]

wth no

 

**me**

[Thu, Jan. 5, 1:43AM]

please???

c’mon, let’s go clubbing

Yugyeom misses you, he’s just not saying it

 

**Kookie**

[Thu, Jan. 5, 1:44AM]

he does?

 

Hook, line, and –

 

**Kookie**

[Thu, Jan. 5, 1:44AM]

I guess it’s not so bad to come back early

 

Sinker.

 

Bambam throws a fist pump into the air and then puts his phone down to clap his hands together in apology. He’s not one to take advantage of his friends like this, but desperate times call for desperate measures. And it’s not like he’s sinning _that_ bad – if anything good happens out of this then he can claim to be the catalyst, the Cupid, for Jungkook to finally man up and confess to Yugyeom…even if that might actually need a miracle before it happens. Bambam has no idea when it began, but one day he happened to catch Jungkook staring longingly at Yugyeom’s retreating figure and after that, he never stopped noticing. It’s not his place to intervene, he thinks, especially since he’s not quite sure how Yugyeom feels in return. His best friend is infuriatingly oblivious – but the same can be said for the rest of their crew. He does feel bad that there aren’t many opportunities for them to be alone; Yugyeom’s endearingly innocent self wants to include as many people as he can, especially Bambam.

 

Jaebum does text him back later, but at this point Bambam is too invested in developing his plan that he ironically cuts the conversation short so he can spend more time thinking about how to…spend time with Jaebum. Shush. It makes sense.

 

The next day, Bambam restlessly spends his time at work with half a mind following Hani and the other half trying to remember all of the ingredients his mother taught him eons ago. Luckily it’s a low maintenance day – they’re simply doing inventory and filling out all the paperwork for the shipment of the Fall/Winter collection for Hong Kong Fashion Week and making sure that all the hired models can commit to the schedule. Sometimes it feels like he’s just being thrown around to do whatever they don’t have enough people for.

 

By the time Jungkook notifies him that he’s back in town, it’s already six in the evening and Bambam has almost forgotten the most important thing: inviting Yugyeom out. That’s quickly fixed with a last minute warning and a hasty explanation on why they’re going out on a Thursday night. (Because they can, so why not? Shut up, Yugyeom.)

 

Jungkook arrives early at their apartment to pick them up – except he’s way too early, so Yugyeom’s not home from the studio yet and now he has to suffer through Bambam’s gussying up in live action.

 

Bambam holds up two black shirts. “This one, or _this_ one?”

 

It honestly looks the same to Jungkook, but it’s been nearly half an hour and Bambam still doesn’t have anything new on. “That one,” he points to the right black T-shirt. Bambam looks at his choice and wrinkles his nose.

 

“Isn’t this too basic?” And then he tosses both of them to the side, pulling a white boat-neck top over his head instead. He makes Jungkook help him put on a pink choker and then proceeds to sit in front of the mirror, darkening up his makeup for a night-appropriate look.

 

“Do you do this every time you go out?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Oh c’mon. All _this_ ,” Jungkook waves his hand all over the room, eyeing the clothes all over the bed and floor.

 

“It’s fun,” Bambam shrugs. “And you’re talking to someone who’s trying to make clothes for a living.” He grabs a small blending brush, closing one eye and sweeping the burgundy into his crease.

 

“That’s true.” Jungkook watches him do his thing for a few minutes. “That’s so much work – don’t you get lazy?”

 

Bambam sighs exaggeratedly while tapping excess shadow off his brush. He tilts his head at Jungkook. “Beauty is pain.”

 

To his surprise, Jungkook scoots his seat closer to his desk, silently looking at all the products haphazardly scattered all over. Bambam quirks an eyebrow but goes back to working on his other eye. By the time Bambam finishes up with a pink lip tint, Jungkook is picking up his single eye shadow pans and reading the labels on the back. Strange.

 

“You want to try?” Bambam smiles and teases him with a nudge of the elbow. He was only kidding, but Bambam’s the one who’s taken off-guard when Jungkook gets a little pink. Jungkook clears his throat and crosses his arms, averting his eyes. He hasn’t said no.

 

“You want to try!” Bambam gasps. Never in a million years would he have thought that Jungkook would one day be interested in makeup. That boy has been running around trying to prove his manliness to anyone who will challenge him. Bambam can only recall one time that Jungkook had anything on, and that was on Changkyun’s birthday party when truth or dare and alcohol got a little out of hand.

 

“J-Just a little!” He stammers at Bambam’s wide eyes. “Nothing like you – not that anything’s wrong with that – just…I don’t know…”

 

“The no-makeup makeup look,” Bambam nods understandingly.

 

“Yeah – that! …I think…”

 

“I could help you put some on. I’m no professional but I’d like to say I’m pretty good,” he smiles reassuringly.

 

That’s so cute. Needless to say, Bambam has a good hunch on why Jungkook suddenly wants to put on makeup. If this is the little boost of confidence he needs for whatever it is he’s planning, then Bambam is more than happy to help. And since he’s such a great friend, he’ll even try to make Jungkook look better than him tonight. Jungkook’s going to be so hot not even the dumbest person can fail to catch on to his advances.

 

“Okay,” Jungkook says hesitantly.

 

With a fire ignited in him, Bambam pulls out a set of clean brushes and pops open all the brown shadows he owns, including the contour and the brow products and wow maybe he can sneak some highlighter on or –

 

“Uhm, that creepy smile is making me uncomfortable.”

 

“Oh sorry.”

 

Yugyeom comes home with the intention of a quick shower before their night out at the club. He’s still confused why Bambam is so insistent they go clubbing on a _Thursday_ night because…who the hell goes out on a Thursday night. But what he’s more confused about now is the noise coming from Bambam’s room. His hand is on the doorknob when by some scary intuition Bambam pops his head out and yells,

 

“We’re not ready yet, go shower, you stink!”

 

Then the door slams shut.

 

Bambam is up to something, and Yugyeom can never be too relaxed when that happens. After taking the much-needed shower and throwing on some clothes, he walks out and finds Bambam turning around in his seat on the couch expectedly. Jungkook, for some reason, isn’t facing him, but Yugyeom can see the tensed, sharp jawline even from here.

 

Bambam smacks Jungkook on his chest, “Let him see, stupid!”

 

“No.”

 

“What – listen. I used fucking Lancôme on you. That face is expensive and I’m not letting you put it to waste.”

 

“…You said Jimin gave you the samples from her purchase.”

 

“ _Lancôme_.”

 

Bambam throws his hands towards Jungkook, who catches them and starts a game of tug-o-war. They fight each other on the couch, forgetting the fact that Yugyeom could just walk over to see what the big deal is.

 

“Why are you guys even fighting?”

 

Both of their heads turn towards Yugyeom instinctively, and Jungkook widens his eyes in horror at his mistake while Bambam sits back gleefully and watches his handiwork unfold. Yugyeom blinks between the two of them. Jungkook swallows audibly. The silence stretches on for a second too long, so Bambam taps his foot.

 

“Well?” He points at Jungkook like it’s obvious.

 

“Well what?” Yugyeom frowns.

 

“ _Well_ ,” Bambam huffs. Yugyeom is _so_ dumb, god. “How does he look?”

 

Yugyeom’s eyes shift to Jungkook. He’s got a bit of makeup on, as stated by Bambam, but Yugyeom would’ve been able to guess the difference even without that bit of information because they’ve been friends for so long. Jungkook’s eyebrows look straight and clean – probably a quick shave before the defining powder and gel. His eyes have a bit of smudged brown liner around the outer corners and all of his dark circles have been covered up. His nose looks taller, cheekbones a bit more prominent. He looks handsome.

 

But Jungkook has always been handsome.

 

“He looks normal, why?”

 

Jungkook visibly deflates, and if that wasn’t enough indication that Yugyeom had said something wrong, then it was the following screech escaping Bambam’s lips.

 

“Normal? He looks normal after I put all that work on him?!”

 

Yugyeom is taken aback, hurriedly trying to explain himself. “I meant – it looks like nothing’s wrong with him! In a healthy way? But if you’re talking about,” Yugyeom draws circles around his face with his hand, “ _this_ , then he looks good.”

 

“Yeah?” Bambam raises his eyebrows.

 

“Yeah,” Yugyeom nods enthusiastically.

 

“ _Yeah_ ,” Bambam looks at Jungkook with meaning. Jungkook looks back and shrugs, trying to come off casual as if he hadn’t been acting antsy two seconds ago. If this is the best reaction he can get out of the two of them, he’ll take it. He’s done his job here.

 

Right before they leave, Bambam slips on the Cartier bracelet and blends it in with some other gold accessories. He watches it glint in the backseat of Jungkook’s car every time they pass by a streetlight as he leans against the window. His hand feels heavy yet empty, a strange contrast that makes him ache. He still doesn’t think he should be keeping it, but the more he looks at it and the more he remembers how pretty it looked with Jaebum’s hand over his, the less he wants to give it back. It feels his.

 

As long as Jaebum doesn’t give him anything else, it’ll be fine. Bambam can add this onto the tab. It’ll be fine.

 

-

 

This is not fine. It’s only eleven at night and Yugyeom and Jungkook already want to go home.

 

“Just one more song, it’s too early to go home!” Bambam begs, dragging on their sleeves.

 

“We’ve been dancing for – god, two hours – how are you not tired?”

 

“There’s not even a lot of people here,” Jungkook comments.

 

“Isn’t that better? We don’t have to scream to hear each other.” Bambam desperately looks around for something to do. “Hey, you know what? I’ll go buy some drinks, why don’t you go find a table or something and then I’ll come back?” He turns away from the group, slipping past strangers on the dance floor swiftly and collapsing at the bar. He danced for two hours – _of course_ he’s tired. Bambam regrets everything. If he weren’t so keen on surprising Jaebum on his birthday then he wouldn’t have to suffer like this. Hell, maybe even notifying his hyung beforehand would’ve been a better idea to show off his cooking in live action. Did Bambam really have to make things so complicated?

 

“Can I just have water for now?” He tells the bartender. Bambam settles onto his stool. He’s going to drag out his time here for as long as he can. Or, at least until Yugyeom and Jungkook are distracted enough for him to excuse his departure as “not wanting to ruin their fun.” Except that’s not working too well right now, and Bambam is borderline willing to just call Jaebum to pick him up with no reason at all.

 

Bambam’s in the middle of contemplating his next move when someone taps on his shoulder and causes him to jump a little. His eyes meet with a blonde girl, and it takes him a second to match her face with one that he’s seen before.

 

“Oh!” Bambam racks his brain for a name. “Yugyeom’s partner at the winter showcase…Momo?”

 

“And you’re the boy who…” she trails off and dabs, causing both of them to laugh.

 

“Sounds like me. I’m Bambam.” They shake hands.

 

“Are you here alone?”

 

Bambam shakes his head, “No. I’m here with Yugyeom and Jungkook, actually! I’m supposed to be buying drinks.” He sheepishly smiles, completely aware of her glancing at his water after that statement.

 

“Me too,” she pouts, looking behind her. “I lost a game and now I have to order for the table.”

 

“You have a table?” Bambam’s mind races. “Who are you with?”

 

“Mina and some other girls from the vocal department. Do you want to join us? We were just getting bored.”

 

Wow, there is a god out there. “Yeah, of course! Let me go get the guys.”

 

“Okay; we’re at the corner near the restrooms.”

 

Bambam hops off his seat with a smile, eagerly breaking through the crowd to look for his friends. He finds them leaning against the wall talking to each other, completely secluded from the rest of the club scene. Bambam falters in his step, almost sorry to burst the bubble they’re in.

 

Yugyeom notices him first, straightening up. “Where’s the drinks?”

 

“Didn’t buy any,” Bambam says, to which they both stare him down for. He claps his hands. “But guess who I met at the bar! Momo!”

 

“Momo?”

 

“Yep, and she invited us over to her table.”

 

Yugyeom shifts on his feet. “Hm, I don’t know her too well aside from practice…”

 

“Then now’s your chance to make new friends. Let’s go, I already said we’d come over,” Bambam grabs his hand.

 

“I don’t know,” Jungkook frowns, “Girls are scary.”

 

“You know one girl and that’s Jimin. Jimin doesn’t count – she’s a beast.”

 

“I’m going to tell her you said that.”

 

Bambam pales while Yugyeom laughs.

 

But with just a little more convincing, Bambam manages to get both of them to meet up with the girls. They introduce themselves and make small talk, checking down the whole bullet list of typical questions to ask fellow college students. Bambam finds himself having to lead the conversation, with Yugyeom being too shy and nervous around strangers. Luckily no one can be as bad as Jungkook though, who has a smile frozen on his face and his mouth clamped shut. Bambam tries to steer the conversation towards dance, which he knows is a more comfortable topic for the both of them. It’s easy the moment someone drops a “Chris Brown” because Yugyeom gets so excited he forgets all about being shy.

 

When everyone is completely engaged, Bambam sneaks a text to Jaebum, hoping that he’s free enough for the plan to pull through. And judging by the confirmation that Jaebum is on his way ten minutes later, it is.

 

“Hey, I think I’m going to head home first, I’m feeling tired.”

 

“Oh, you are?” Yugyeom begins to get up. Bambam rests his hand on Yugyeom’s shoulder to sit him back down.

 

“It’s okay, you can stay,” Bambam looks at both him and Jungkook. “I asked Jaebum hyung for a ride home.”

 

“You did? When?”

 

“Just now.” Bambam checks his phone again. He’ll be here soon.

 

Jaebum shows up not too long after, dressed in black jeans ripped at the knees and a pair of sneakers. (It looks suspiciously like Balenciaga, but it’s too dark for Bambam to properly freak out over.) He also has an embroidered bomber over a simple black tee, but that quickly comes off the moment he spots Bambam waving at him, saying his final goodbyes to the group. Jaebum sweeps the jacket over Bambam’s frame, both hands on the collar. He uses the momentum of the action to pull Bambam in, catching the younger by surprise when he presses a firm kiss right on his glossy pink lips.

 

The squeals behind him are immediate.

 

“Hyung!” Bambam squeaks, eyes wide and cheeks flushing. He makes the mistake of peeking behind his shoulder, catching the leers Yugyeom and Jungkook are giving him. _Oh my god_ , they’re totally going to spam the group chat later with an exaggerated reenactment. Bambam hides behind his fingers.

 

“Hello to you, too” Jaebum grins.

 

Bambam pushes his shoulder lightly. “Don’t do that! It’s embarrassing…”

 

Jaebum gives everyone a nod of acknowledgement and then takes Bambam away.

 

“Don’t be mad,” Jaebum says over a huff of laughter at Bambam unsuccessfully yanking the seatbelt down. Bambam’s wearing Jaebum’s gigantic jacket as usual to prevent the cold. He’s also wearing an angry pout that puffs up his cheeks. “I do it because you’re cute.”

 

“I’m never going to hear the end of it,” Bambam groans. “It was already bad enough that Yugyeom’s been blabbing about you and me but now that he’s an eye witness? With Jungkook too? _Ughhhh_.”

 

“It can’t be the worst thing in the world.”

 

“It’s not,” he sighs, sinking into the jacket so only his eyes can be seen. He looks at Jaebum and smiles. “Hyung, my gloss is all over your mouth.”

 

“Is it?” Jaebum smacks his lips, feeling the slide. “It is,” he confirms. Jaebum smiles slowly and deviously, leaning in. “Well, since I’ve already ruined it…”

 

Bambam giggles, slapping a hand over his hyung’s face. “Stop. Just take me home already.”

 

Jaebum withdraws with a smile. Guess he can’t have everything. “Okay.” He starts up the engine and heads out. He lets Bambam fiddle with the radio station, occasionally glancing away from the road to take in Bambam’s appearance. He can’t believe Bambam was out looking like that the _whole_ night and he wasn’t there for it. The white top he has on should be illegal – it puts his entire collarbone on display and creases whenever he moves to reveal even more tanned skin underneath. The pink choker has a small dangling gemstone in the middle that rests daintily on his neck. Jaebum might have cutouts on his knees, but Bambam has rips all the way to his fucking _thighs_.

 

“Oh, by the way, when I said take me home, I meant your home.”

 

Jaebum almost swerves to the next lane.

 

“What?”

 

“I went out with Yugyeommie so…I didn’t bring my keys with me.”

 

His hand tightens on the wheel. “Right…”

 

“Is that okay?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Thank you, hyung.”

 

Jaebum hums. “Any time, Bam-ah.”

 

There’s no traffic on the freeway at this particular time, so they reach their destination relatively fast. And considering it’s his second time here, Bambam tries not to let the amazement show on his face, but it’s really hard not to when the visuals are so vastly different from what he’s used to. Jaebum opens the door for him so he smiles in thank you and bends down to take off his boots. Half-way through, Bambam looks up and finds a pair of cerulean blue eyes staring right back at him from behind a pillar.

 

“Is that Nora?” Bambam asks at the same time that Jaebum pads over to pick her up, a little meow escaping from her.

 

“She’s my daughter,” Jaebum says seriously, affectionately petting her head.

 

Bambam stifles his laugh and comes over to pet Nora instead. When his hand gets close though, he can see her slink away, half-climbing onto Jaebum’s shoulder. Bambam hesitantly retracts his hand.

 

“It’s okay; she’s just shy. She’ll warm up to you soon.”

 

“I hope so,” Bambam watches her curl up happily in Jaebum’s arms, purring with every scratch. “She’s very pretty.”

 

“The prettiest,” Jaebum beams proudly. He lets her down and they both watch her run away to her bed. “We should probably sleep, too. Do you want to shower? I’ll leave out clothes for you.”

 

“If you don’t mind.”

 

So Jaebum picks out a soft crewneck and a pair of sweatpants with drawstrings on them for him – Bambam’s so narrow that he needs the extra support to fit or else they’ll just drop right down his hips. Jaebum directs him to where the shower is and lets him use whatever he sees fit. Bambam already has a bad inkling the moment he steps in and finds himself in a changing room instead of directly into a bathroom, but nothing, not even his proactive imagination, could prepare him for the massive drop-in Jacuzzi, jade-stoned walls, and black marbled tiles lined with lotus lights that turn on as he walks. Bambam almost drops his damn towel.

 

As tempting as the tub is, it feels like a waste of water to run it just for one person, so Bambam heads over to where he thinks is the shower and fiddles with the buttons until he’s suddenly soaked with cold water. He yelps, jumping out quickly. What he thought was the showerhead wasn’t the showerhead. Water actually comes out from way above, nearly at the ceiling, in a rainfall that covers a much larger area than he anticipated. Bambam suddenly really hates rich people.

 

After he figures out the thermostat on the shower, he quickly scrubs himself clean with what he can and pops out into the hallway feeling hot and fresh. Bambam doesn’t normally fold his dirty clothes but he’ll make an exception for this one time since he’s a guest and all. His hair is still damp but it was the best he could do with just a towel. Bambam shuffles back to the living room where he left his phone, quickly snatching it into his pocket before going to look for Jaebum.

 

“Hyung?”

 

He hears a muffled answer coming from a certain room. Bambam gets closer to it, knocking on the wood once.

 

“I’m done, thank you for letting me use the shower! I’ll go sleep in the guestroom.”

 

Jaebum swings the door open. _Ah, it must be his bedroom_ , Bambam eyes the black and white interior.

 

“The guestroom?” Jaebum frowns. “No, Bambam, come in here.”

 

The lights are turned off, and Bambam somehow manages to gracefully land face-first on the king-sized bed with an “ _oof_.” He turns off his phone and places it on the closest counter, awkwardly watching Jaebum’s figure round to the other side of the bed through the darkness. Jaebum slides under the covers easily while Bambam’s still half-sitting up, swallowing loudly at the quick turn of events. Once he finds it in himself to curl up underneath as well, strong arms immediately reach out to reel him in by his waist and Bambam’s heart hammers at the easy slide of his body across the satin sheets.

 

They’re close.

 

He can feel Jaebum’s breath on him – Bambam supposes that if he leaned in just a bit more, their lips would touch. His mind makes a quick assessment of the situation. He’s just showered and dressed in Jaebum’s clothes. They’re all alone in his room, on his bed. There’s a sneaky hand slipping under Bambam’s sweater and resting on the bare skin of the small of his back. It’s technically Jaebum’s birthday now.

 

The implications of everything have him stuttering for a moment. It’s even worse when Bambam frees an arm between them to rest more comfortably on the side and Jaebum takes it upon himself to press them chest-to-chest. Bambam tries to calm down, hoping that Jaebum won’t be able to feel his rapid pulse.

 

“Hey,” Jaebum cups his cheek. “You okay?”

 

Oh. So he can feel it.

 

“…I’m nervous,” Bambam admits softly.

 

“Why?”

 

“…You make me nervous…” Bambam wants to draw his legs up to retreat into his favorite position: the ball. But it’s impossible with Jaebum holding him like this.

 

Jaebum loosens up his embrace – “I’m sorry – is this uncomfortable? I can back off.”

 

“No,” Bambam rushes, fingers grabbing on to his hyung’s shirt. “I…uhm…” He shrinks, dipping down from the pillow and tucking himself right under Jaebum’s chin. “This is okay. I’m just not used to it.”

 

He decides to talk through his nerves as a distraction. “This is a pretty early bedtime for you, huh.”

 

Bambam mentally smacks himself. Just what is he suggesting?

 

“Hm…kind of. I’m only up so late because I have trouble sleeping sometimes.”

 

Bambam unconsciously snuggles a little closer. It’s warm. “What do you when you’re up then?”

 

Jaebum smiles into his white hair and taps the tip of his nose. “What do you think?”

 

He grins, knowing that they spend too much time texting. “I don’t know, watching cat videos?”

 

“You dare imply I’d be interested in cats other than Nora?”

 

“You’re the one with an instagram feed full of animals.”

 

After bickering back and forth about the degree of obsession Jaebum has for cats, Jaebum finally resorts to turning on his phone. The light from its start-up blinds them, causing them to groan and squeeze their eyes shut in unison. Suddenly, Bambam is looking at a very familiar picture for a lock screen. Wait. His eyes widen at the same time that Jaebum realizes his mistake, hurriedly pressing the power button and chucking it to the side.

 

“Hyung, was that _me_?” Bambam scrambles to sit up, reaching for the tossed phone. He wants a second look to make sure it’s not his imagination. Jaebum pulls him down to his original position, locking him in place.

 

“Nope. You know what, let’s just sleep, it’s been a long day.” He wraps them up tightly with the covers. “Good night, Bambam.”

 

Bambam still wants to see. “No – that was _me_! I swear that was me!”

 

“No it wasn’t. Go sleep.”

 

“Well then what about the cats?” All he receives is a grunt in reply. Bambam makes a futile attempt to grab Jaebum’s phone. “Is that the picture I first sent you? In November?”

 

“ _Bam_.”

 

“You like me that much?” Bambam asks in wonder, not necessarily directed towards Jaebum. When he finally gives up and sinks back into the burrito that Jaebum’s made out of them, Bambam notices a steady _thump_ beating from Jaebum’s chest. It vibrates beneath his fingers and it gets increasingly loud the more he presses against it. Bambam can only stare dazedly into the darkness. “Wow.” That’s wild.

 

“Are you done?” Jaebum grumbles above him. Bambam wiggles up the bed so that they can be face to face.

 

“You _like_ me,” Bambam teases and snickers as if he’s an elementary kid who just heard the biggest gossip of all time.

 

“After this, I’m not so sure.”

 

“Aw.” Bambam tangles their legs together. “Want to hear a secret?”

 

No response. That’s fine.

 

“ _I like you, too_ ,” Bambam whispers and gives him a quick peck on the cheek. Jaebum grabs onto his nape, drawing him back in for a kiss that they both smile into more than anything else.

 

-

 

Jaebum leaves for work early in the morning, which Bambam can only barely recall having been half-asleep when it happened. One or two kisses might’ve been stolen from him – which is unfair, so he’ll have to steal them back later to make it even. Anyway, when Bambam wakes up with a wide yawn quarter-past noon, he stretches and rejoices at the successful mission. He is inside the condo, repeat, he is inside the condo.

 

Jaebum left a note as usual, but what gets Bambam even more excited is the temporary key card beside it. Thank god. Bambam hadn’t actually planned how to grab the groceries and bring it back inside. This will solve a lot of upcoming problems.

 

Bambam makes sure to text Yugyeom on his whereabouts just in case he gets worried and starts a search party. He washes up and then heads out to investigate the kitchen. Jaebum has an induction stove, which Bambam has never used before and hopes that it won’t affect the cook times he’s used to. The fridge is surprisingly stocked – Bambam hadn’t taken Jaebum as a guy that could cook or have time to make dinner. There’s even a walk-in pantry room with all the kitchenware and canned or dried food. It doesn’t have everything he needs though, so he’ll still have to take the bus to the market.

 

Bambam puts on the clothes from last night (sigh) and heads out. The trip ends up being fun – not only was there a fruit sale but there was also a lot of free samples from the fish market. After two rounds between all the aisles, he was full enough to forgo lunch, using that money instead to buy a cupcake and a candle. Bambam makes sure to scurry through the lobby of the building though; it still feels like the receptionist gives him the stink eye every time he shows up.

 

By the time he’s got everything laid out on the kitchen counter, it’s 3:30PM. That should be plenty of time before Jaebum comes home. Bambam takes the liberty of changing back to the sleeping clothes – it’s softer and gives him more movement. He starts off by prepping the chicken for his mom’s signature green curry. It’ll take the longest out of everything he’s planned because it has to simmer for an hour for everything to be tender. At 4PM, he’s sitting in front of the 65-inch TV watching episode 8 of Goblin while grating a green papaya. Yugyeom has been raving over this drama and demands that Bambam catch up to the latest episode.

 

His timer goes off, so Bambam turns off the TV and dumps all of the grated papaya into a mixing bowl. He checks on the curry, seasoning and tasting it before lowering the heat. Bambam makes a quick fish sauce for the papaya salad and shoves it in the fridge to chill. The only thing left is to pan-fry the water spinach with garlic.

 

Bambam finishes everything just before five, patting himself on the back for a job well done. He leaves the curry on the stove at low heat but gathers everything else for cleaning after being satisfied with the plating. He’s carrying a pan in each hand inside the dark pantry room when he hears the distinctive sound of the front door being unlocked.

 

Already? Bambam gently puts everything down. He’s about to flicker on the lights when he hears an unfamiliar voice.

 

“ – I’m inside. Yeah, yeah, I’m getting it right now – _hyung don’t rush me I’m the one doing you a favor_.”

 

Bambam plants himself to the wall, panicking.

 

“In the office?”

 

The voice dissipates as the owner steps towards the hallway. Bambam takes a peek around the corner to see the back of a suited man with – revealing ankles. Goddamn it, Bambam knows exactly who it is. He turns around suddenly and Bambam barely has time to whip back into the pantry, heart beating fast.

 

“Never mind, I see it,” Jinyoung picks up a manila folder hanging off the edge of a stand table. “Whoa – hyung, you left the stove on!”

 

_Oh shit_ , Bambam sweats. Wait; does he have a reason to be hiding like this? It’s not like he’s not allowed to be here – he didn’t commit any crime.

 

“Yeah, you left the stove on… _I said you left the stove on_. Look, am I the one at your house right now or you?”

 

“Meow.”

 

Bambam looks down and sees Nora circling around his legs. Oh my god.

 

“You know what – I skipped lunch having to cover you because you forgot all the documents. I’m taking half of whatever you cooked.”

 

Bambam’s eyes widen in horror as he peeps outside again, seeing Jinyoung do exactly that – scooping out all of his hard work onto a bowl of rice. He wants to run out there and slap the ladle out of his hands.

 

“It smells good; when’d you learn how to cook Thai food?”

 

_Never, because I made that for him!_ Bambam screams internally. And now it’d be too awkward to just pop out of the pantry and alert Jinyoung of his existence.

 

“…Whatever, I’ll drive back after this. See you in twenty.”

 

So Bambam glares at him from behind the wall during the entire process of Jinyoung chowing down his food. Even Nora leaves his side and walks over to Jinyoung, climbing on his lap.

 

Jinyoung leaves not too long after, placing the empty bowl in the sink and filling it up with water to soak. He pets Nora once before leaving with a final click of the door. Bambam rushes out, tipping the pot over to check its contents. It’s nearly empty, maybe enough for one person.

 

**me**

[Thu, Jan. 6, 5:23PM]

I hate my life

 

**Yugyeommie**

[Thu, Jan. 6, 5:26PM]

????

 

**me**

[Thu, Jan. 6, 5:27PM]

also, I like the Reaper more

 

**Yugyeommie**

[Thu, Jan. 6, 5:27PM]

nO Goblin is better!!!!

 

-

 

“Happy birthday!” Bambam tackles Jaebum into a hug.

 

Surprised, Jaebum drops all of his gift bags on the floor and wraps his arms around him. “You’re still here?” He looks over and sees a set up table. Jaebum smiles, “How’d you know? I wasn’t going to tell you until tomorrow.”

 

“I found out online – can you believe that? And why tomorrow?”

 

“I have something planned for us.”

 

It’s Bambam’s turn to be surprised. “Us?” He gets a nod and nothing else. “You got a lot of presents,” he looks down at the multiple branded bags.

 

“I did – mostly from my employees. They’re just trying to kiss up to me.”

 

Bambam tilts his head in thought for a moment and then lifts himself up by his toes, landing a feathery kiss on the corner of Jaebum’s mouth. “I’m kissing up to you, too.”

 

“Hm…” Jaebum smirks. “I think you can do better than that.”

 

They probably spend way too long making out by the door and Bambam only remembers to stop themselves when he hears Nora scratching on Jaebum’s leg. He pulls Jaebum over to the table, lifting up the plates to heat them up after Jaebum’s seen them.

 

“I made you dinner – it’s not much, but I hope you like it.”

 

He does, and he makes sure to show it by finishing everything up and complimenting Bambam every two seconds. It makes Bambam happy to see him eating so well, so the smile never leaves his face as he watches his hyung scrape the rice bowl. The only thing Jaebum’s bitter about afterwards is the fact that Jinyoung ate most of the curry. Bambam promises to make it again someday.

 

They cuddle on the couch afterwards for a movie and head to sleep talking about it – it’s a simple way to spend the night, but it feels perfect.

 

The next day, Jaebum grabs his hand and leads them to a walk-in closet, which Bambam barely has any time to marvel over before a large bag is placed in front of him. Bambam stares at the Saint Laurent logo engraved onto it, turning his head towards Jaebum questioningly.

 

“Remember when you told me not to take you somewhere nice without warning you first?”

 

Bambam furrows his eyebrows suspiciously. “Yes?”

 

Jaebum sits him down on a white leather ottoman and lifts out a box from the bag, placing it on Bambam’s lap. “Open it.”

 

Bambam bites the inside of his cheek – “Wait – this isn’t a gift or anything right?” He flails a little. “Last time I checked the calendar it was _your_ birthday, not mine, right?”

 

“I don’t need an occasion for me to give you gifts. Now come on, open it,” he insists. Jaebum leans back on one arm, his expression simultaneously smug and relaxed, as if he _knows_ whatever’s in there, Bambam will love. Bambam clenches his teeth, nervously clutching the box. His mind attempts to recall every single time he gushed over work or sent pictures of new designer collections – he swears he hadn’t meant for any ulterior motive – it’s just that this is his _life_. He feels guilty now and wonders if he should cut back on that. With a deep breath, he lifts off the top with one go.

 

“ _No_ …” Bambam gasps.

 

Jaebum grins at his comically frozen state. He slides the box off to the side before Bambam can even process it, bringing up a new one. He does the honors of opening this one.

 

“ _No!_ ” Bambam is going to choke.

 

He brings out yet another one, at which Bambam squeaks and clutches onto his wrist.

 

“Oh god – _hyung_ , please tell me this is the last one – is this funny to you?” Bambam throws a fit at his hyung’s laughter, eyes glassy. “I’m going to die!”

 

“Last one, promise.”

 

Now that all three are laid out in front of him, Bambam can only stare at them, stunned into silence. Jaebum’s got him an outfit head to toe in Saint Laurent, from the single-breasted tuxedo jacket with metallic woven stars down to the heeled black leather boots. His throat is dry as his runs his fingers down through all the seams – the exquisite lining, the sharp lapel, the silk, the movement – a small part of him wants to take it apart just to study it down to the threads. The glittery black dress shirt that comes with it has a collar that ties up into a loopy bow. When Bambam takes a look at the trousers and shoes, he’s surprised that Jaebum has gotten the right size.

 

He dolls himself up, as per Jaebum’s request, and twirls around for him. Bambam catches his reflection in the mirror and stops. He’s still in disbelief. They’re just pretty (and expensive) clothes, but he doesn’t look like himself; he doesn’t feel like himself. It’s awfully strange.

 

Jaebum hugs him from behind, looking at him through the mirror. “You look beautiful. Come on, we’ll be late for our date.”

 

Bambam lets himself get dragged out, but he still can’t help but put up a little bit of a fight. “I’m not keeping these, right?” His heels echo through the garage. Jaebum only hums, so he figures that this isn’t the way to approach it. Bambam tries to make a firmer statement. “I’m not keeping these.”

 

“Sure,” Jaebum casually says. It sounds like an appeaser – something to get Bambam to shut up while he grabs his hand and presses his lips against the inside of his wrist, right where the moon pendent rests.

 

“It’s _your_ birthday – why am I the one being treated out?”

 

“My birthday was yesterday,” Jaebum smiles. “And I’m being plenty selfish. I’m stealing you for the whole day, even when there’s no reason to.”

 

And then he whisks him off his feet.

 

 

-

 

 

It’s only been a week since school started again and Bambam can already feel an oncoming headache. There’s not a lot of work yet, per se, but there will definitely more than he can possibly hope to handle in the upcoming future based on his heavily marked up calendar. There will be an early spring fashion show this year – it’s two weeks earlier than he expected, which means he’s got to hustle twice, no, a hundred times as hard if he wants to do a good job while working concurrently. Not to mention, he has to pack up soon for a week off to Hong Kong. Soon…meaning _now_ , and here he is, being crushed under Yugyeom just because he won’t spill the beans on what happened after he left with Jaebum all those nights ago. Or, well, he _has_ , but Yugyeom won’t believe that the cooking and the cuddling was it. (He’s kind of right.) More importantly, Bambam wants to know what happened with Jungkook.

 

“Nothing in particular. Why?” Yugyeom looks at him upside down. Bambam has given up struggling long ago and is just accepting his sad fate of being Yugyeom’s pillow.

 

“Just curious,” Bambam mutters. Man, he feels bad for Jungkook. “Can you get off me?”

 

“Don’t wanna,” Yugyeom singsongs.

 

So he and Yugyeom end up getting nothing done that night and avoid all their work by playing games. Needless to say, Bambam regrets all of it when he has to shove all his clothes and electronics into a suitcase only three hours before he has to catch his flight. Nana stares at his ragged state disapprovingly; somehow she looks even scarier with sunglasses on.

 

Bambam shakes his leg the entire four-hour flight, jittery and excited about his first fashion week out of Korea. He’s already made a list of all the shows and booths he wants to attend if time permits, imagining all of the possibilities and practicing his English under his breath. It’s been a long time since he’s had to speak the language and he’s not too confident in it but whatever he can remember will have to suffice. Bambam expects the experience to be amazing.

 

Their runway show is set for the second day. Bambam thought he would have free time before the event but Nana reels him in by his ear, clicking her tongue. There’s rehearsal to attend to. So all through the first and second day, Bambam rushes around on and off stage zipping past models and the press while carrying clothes, pins, and needles. As always, something _always_ goes wrong at the last minute – an hour before their show, a model sprains her ankle on six-inch heels. Now they’re one model short _and_ Bambam is trying to pin a dress down one size up to fit a girl whose weight drastically fluctuated from her last check-in with them. Nana is currently being interviewed on live broadcast, so he’s left all alone under the stress of pulling everything together behind the scenes.

 

It’s even busier when the show actually starts. Nana is back now, yelling in a weird mix of Korean, English, and broken Cantonese. When the last model leaves the stage and Nana heads out to take the bow, Bambam finally takes a breath in relief, clapping along with the audience from the monitor in the fitting room. He’s all by himself midst all the wreckage – makeup palettes are still open, brushes lie outside of their containers, and it’s highly likely that there are pins on the floor from where he had to hastily help the models get in and out of their garments under two minutes. Bambam begins sweeping the floor, though most of his attention is still on Nana.

 

He wonders how long it’ll be before he gets on that level.

 

Bambam had expected that each moment of the fashion week would be memorable – but instead, they blur all together, the different designers melding into one. When he looks at all of his notes and pictures at night, he has to struggle to pick out a favorite. The trend is minimalism this year – only to him, it’s so muted and one-dimensional that nothing stands out. It might just be him though; his style is relatively louder than his peers. Ironically, the best part for him must’ve been the textile booths, where he had promised he would inform Jimin about since she specializes in the production.

 

On the final night, Nana takes him with her to an after-party. It’s a scene that he’s seen several times before – only less dancing and more socializing. Bambam pulls on his best smile and introduces himself to as many people as he can, drawing on his arsenal of notes to win the favor of his seniors. The night goes well for the most part. Out of the entire week, it’s the following that he will remember the most.

 

Bambam is washing his hands in the restroom when a man barges in, startling him. The door slams loudly on the wall behind it, but it doesn’t seem to faze him. He stumbles towards the sink, next to Bambam. Bambam only needs one look to see that he’s drunk.

 

The man’s hair is cut short and brown, styled up to reveal a clean undercut and silver earrings. He has straight eyebrows, big eyes, and a sharp jawline. He roughly yanks the middle of his hoodie into the water, where Bambam can see the huge purple stain of a cocktail drink. He’s barely keeping himself upright as he does so, eyes squinting at an attempt for better vision.

 

He suddenly catches Bambam’s eye and makes a pleased sound from the back of his throat. “Yaaah, are you a fan?”

 

Bambam raises his eyebrows. “Uhm. No?”

 

He lets out a teasing high-pitched laugh, grinning. “Don’t be shy! If you have a pen I’ll sign something for you!”

 

Bambam blinks blankly at him for a good minute before the smile is wiped off his face and replaced with a dramatically shocked expression.

 

“Don’t you know Jackson?”

 

Bambam shakes his head.

 

“Jackson Wang, hot actor, top variety star?”

 

It doesn’t ring a bell.

 

“Wang _Jia Er_?”

 

At this point, he looks so sad that Bambam might just pretend to recognize him with another try.

 

“Looks like I’ll have to work harder,” Jackson pouts, scrubbing at his hoodie sadly. The strain isn’t coming off. Bambam gives him a sorry smile before grabbing a paper towel for his hands.

 

Right as Bambam turns for the door, Jackson pulls his hoodie overhead to take it off. But the shirt he’s wearing underneath is stuck to it, so everything comes off in one clean swoop and Bambam’s jaw drops at the sudden exposure of skin. His hands fly up to his eyes.

 

“Your shirt!” He yells.

 

“You like my shirt?” Jackson squints. “Thanks!” And then he waddles out the door. Bambam runs after him, certain that one would need to be _dressed_ to be appropriate at this event.

 

“No – _you don’t have a shirt on_!”

 

Jackson turns around, and Bambam tries really hard to keep his eyes up and not on his toned muscles. “Of course I’m wearing a shirt – whoa…” He clutches his head, vision swimming. That turn did not end up well.

 

“It came off with your hoodie,” Bambam tries to explain, reaching for said pink hoodie and trying to put it over his head. He doesn’t notice Jackson’s condition until it’s too late, Jackson falling forward onto Bambam and driving him harshly against the wall with his weight. Bambam hisses in pain; his shoulder blades took most of the damage.

 

“Hey –!” Bambam shakes his shoulder frantically. Jackson gives him a groan at best. “Jesus – how much did you drink?”

 

Bambam gets them off the wall, but he’s not strong enough to carry Jackson wherever else he needs to be to be safe. He settles for letting Jackson slide down to a seat on the floor and crouches with him.

 

“Is there anyone I can call?”

 

“Manager…”

 

“Okay,” Bambam opens up his phone. It takes several tries for Jackson to get the number right and probably half an hour for a man to come rushing towards them, lifting him up with a thank you. Bambam nods and watches them leave worriedly up until they enter a van outside.

 

Well, wasn’t that something.

 

(And if anyone has snapped a picture of the hottest rising Hong Kong actor half-naked against the wall with a young boy, both of them are blissfully unaware.)

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /pterodactyl screech: IT'S BEEN NEARLY A MONTH I'M SO SORRY OTL
> 
> I'm a terribly slow writer...and every time I pick my ass up enough to work, the next midterms are coming up /because/ I've been so slow. Ya see this cycle?
> 
> Is it just me or do bbam kiss a lot? /squints. And why are they always in the car? /double squints. Anyway I hate myself LOL I had a plan of 3 events I wanted to hit for this chapter and was like ooooh yeah I can do this in 10k - reality: 1 event nearly took 10k. /jumps to the sun. I hope I'm doing alright; every time I have to write a new chapter I get so paranoid that it won't be as good as whatever's wanted.
> 
> Anyway!!! Wow!!! Thank you so much for sticking around and reading this!! I don't know if I say this enough but every hit, kudos, bookmark, and comment means so much and I'm so grateful for everything! Thank you!


	4. do your worst, do your meanest

 

 

“Whoa,” Minghao says out of nowhere, eyes on his phone. He doesn’t elaborate, so the rest of the group only spare him a glance before going right back to their deep discussion about corgi butts. Bambam arrives at the table only a few seconds later, throwing himself onto Yugyeom like the dead sack of potatoes he feels like he is right now. Bambam looks his absolute _worst_ (he bemoans to deaf ears) – right after coming back from Hong Kong Fashion Week, he had been horrified and stressed to find out that more than half of his peers and competitors had already decided on a concept for their show while Bambam had a great idea of…nothing. The week off of school put him behind further than he had anticipated, and now Bambam is scrambling to turn in half-assed drafts and wondering what the fuck the professor is talking about during lectures.

 

Bambam is never seen looking anything other than his best – but he’s human too and well, fuck if anyone dares to comment on his bare face and glasses, his dirty and damaged hair sloppily tied into a topknot, and his worn out sweatpants. He can’t even be bothered, not when he has class in an hour and then work from afterwards until evening. His future seems as blank as his sketchbook, especially when Jimin keeps sending him her work for his feedback and he wants to cry because they’re great. They’re so great. He doesn’t regret leaving for fashion week, but he definitely regrets not preparing more before his departure.

 

“Kill me now,” Bambam whines and flops over the table. Yugyeom flicks the little bun on his head with his finger.

 

“Don’t be dramatic, the term just started.”

 

“That’s the point! It _just_ started and I’m already _so_ behind.”

 

Yugyeom has nothing to say to that (because it’s true), so he just offers Bambam a sip of his chocolate shake. Bambam draws the straw in with his tongue and sucks sadly.

 

“Whoa,” Minghao repeats. “Shit really went down at HKFW – hey, Bam, weren’t you at the party too?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Look at this,” Minghao flips his phone for everyone to see.

 

“Dude,” Changkyun looks at him in the eye. “We can’t read Chinese.”

 

“Oh.” Minghao scrolls down to a picture, “Here.”

 

It’s a picture of a dark hallway with two men against the wall in an intimate position. One of them is topless with his eyes closed but the other one’s face is blocked off by the shadows. An arm is wrapped around bare skin. It takes a moment for anything to click within the group, but “ah’s” are echoed around the table when Jimin makes the first connection.

 

“Isn’t that Jackson Wang?”

 

Bambam chokes on the chocolate shake, snapping his head right up while coughing.

 

“Oh yeah, it is! Wasn’t there news just last week about him doing some sort of Chinese-Korean action film soon?”

 

“You guys know him?” Bambam manages to croak out past his coughing.

 

“He’s _everywhere_. I could’ve sworn we ate chicken from the brand he endorses once.” Jimin pulls up the same picture on her phone, but in a Korean news article. She whistles, “Wow. It’s trending real fast. There’s no way he’ll escape backlash from this scandal.”

 

Bambam takes a look and feels an immediate drop from his stomach. Oh, it’s Jackson, that’s for sure. But the incriminating gold bracelet hanging from the wrist around his torso also confirms that it’s _Bambam_ in the picture. He unconsciously pulls the sleeve of his sweater down, growing paler and sicker by the second. He’s not wearing it right now – only ever does when he knows Jaebum will look for it – but it sticks out so glaringly obviously to him that it makes him want to cower in shame. He’s done nothing wrong, and neither did Jackson. It’s all just a misunderstanding and an ill-captured moment, and it’s because of that that it makes Bambam feel so much sorrier seeing all the malicious headlines about Jackson. They read the comments under the articles for a minute silently.

 

“Damn, that’s harsh,” Changkyun shows them a comment left by an enraged and “betrayed” fan. “Look at the amount of up-votes – it’s crazy.”

 

Most of the comments are just shocked reactions, but the top three are long threads about how this is all media-play to promote the upcoming movie or that Jackson is actually a player and that it’s about time he got caught red-handed. After the initial shock has rubbed off, the more Bambam reads about it and listens to his friends’ commentary, the more riled up he gets.

 

“What the fuck,” Bambam’s eyebrows scrunch up. He scrolls rapidly, searching for any positive comments. “Why are people so _mean_? It could just be a bad photo!”

 

“I dunno, but this looks pretty undeniable.”

 

“He was just drunk and collapsed!”

 

Jungkook stares at him – “You make it sound like you were there when it happened.” Everyone at the table, including Bambam, widen their eyes.

 

“ _Holy shit_.” Changkyun squeaks through his fist.

 

“No! It’s not what you think!” Bambam hastily spits out.

 

“You _saw_ all of this happen?” Changkyun gasps. Jimin hits his arm.

 

“Idiot – that’s not the right question! Bambam,” Jimin looks down on him menacingly, pointing a manicured nail at the figure behind Jackson in the photo. Bambam shrinks in fear. Why is he always in trouble wherever there’s Jimin around? “ _Is this you_?”

 

Minghao sneakily steals a chicken wing and starts munching, setting down his phone and watching the new form of entertainment unfold in front of him.

 

“No?” Bambam gulps.

 

“No?” She squints.

 

“No,” Bambam clears his throat and puts more confidence in his word. There’s a moment of dead silence before Jimin utters “ _Liar._ ”

 

“Gang!” She snaps her fingers. “In formation!” None of the guys move, blinking at her owlishly. Jimin sighs. “I mean, surround him.”

 

“But we are surrounding him, we’re sitting at a table,” Jungkook says.

 

“No,” she pinches the bridge of her nose in frustration. “I mean _threaten the truth out of him_.” She drives a hand towards Bambam’s face, looking at all of them. “Look at him! That face is full of secrets!”

 

If Bambam didn’t hate his life before, he certainly hates it now.

 

“Stop bullying him, Jimin,” Yugyeom says in his sweet voice. Bambam looks up at him in awe, eyes sparkling in gratefulness. Wow, Yugyeom is the best, Yugyeom is an angel, he is the purest of the pure, the kindest of the kind, an angel amongst mortals – “Bambam would tell us if it was important.”

 

Oh. Oh no. Yugyeom is too kind. He has too much faith in Bambam and loves him too much, which is a problem if Bambam wants to get away with lying guilt-free. Bambam gives him one last pitiful glance before deciding to spit it all out. Anyway, compared to the _other_ secret, this one is nothing in comparison. If anything, it’s just going to be extra gossip for the group.

 

“Uhm,” he begins, “okay. So it might’ve been me. But! It’s not what it looks like!” Bambam tells them all about the meeting in the restroom and how it was all an unfortunate accident. They happened to be there at the wrong place at the wrong time – and Bambam _swears_ that’s all there is to it. He’s just sorry now that Jackson’s career will have to suffer. Yugyeom nods through the entire story like a proud parent, as if he knew that Bambam wouldn’t do anything bad.

 

“Wait,” Changkyun raises his hand. “So you didn’t get anything signed? At all? _Bambam, you blew it_!”

 

Everyone ignores him.

 

Jungkook leans back with a soft sigh of relief. Bambam looks at him questioningly as he starts speaking. “Oh good. Sorry. I just thought for a second that if it really was you, you might’ve…cheated or something.”

 

Bambam’s reaction is immediate – his eyes flash, affronted, and his fists clench tightly on his lap. “ _No…_ ” he has to hold himself back from shouting. “I would _never_ – _Jesus –_ I’m not that kind of person –!” Bambam shuts up, realizing that he sounds like he’s sure he and Jaebum are dating. But he’s not. They like each other, and he knows that now, but it’s not like Jaebum has ever explicitly told him what that means for them or if they’re exclusive. It’s kind of slipped out of his mind; he always forgets about all the complicated technicalities of what it means for them to be _together_ whenever they’re around each other. They tend to teeter totter around it anyway, the conversation always turning away whenever something dangerous comes up.

 

Now Bambam wonders if he’s as much of a secret to Jaebum as Jaebum is to him – and that…that leaves acid burning behind his throat, a painful and sinking feeling in his chest that he’s never encountered before. If they’re both mutually evasive about their relationship like this, what does that imply? Does Jaebum not want to be official? Is that what it is? Considering how Jaebum looks at him and treats him, it’s crazy to think how slowly they’re taking it and how Jaebum hasn’t even asked Bambam to be his by now. Unless, of course, he never meant to ask in the first place. With a sharp breath, Bambam realizes that must be it. They weren’t meant to last. He must’ve been the only fool, investing so much of his heart all at once unwittingly.

 

Bambam’s eyes glaze over with wetness. He looks down, fists curling up around the hem of his sweater to hide from peering eyes. Now is not the time to be doubtful – he’s not alone and anyone can see him being vulnerable. _Suck it up_ , Bambam thinks angrily at himself. _You knew the risks so suck it up_.

 

Jungkook catches the shift in Bambam and quickly makes amends. “I know – I know, I’m sorry,” Jungkook apologizes sincerely. “It’s just…the bracelet.”

 

_What?_

 

Jungkook zooms in to the wrist. “I remember when you got picked up at the club, Jaebum seemed to be happy to see it on you so I assumed that he gave it to you. That, and you seem to treasure it. But then knowing that you were there at the party and seeing it in the picture made me jump to conclusions. I’m sorry. I know you’re not like that.”

 

“Wait, what bracelet?” Yugyeom frowns, wondering why he hadn’t seen something that obvious.

 

Bambam panics. He thought he was being discreet about it – if Jungkook’s noticed just from the one time he dared to wear it around them (despite the attempt to hide it amongst other accessories), then who knows who else will be able to tell in the future. He looks at the pixelated picture himself and worriedly glances at Jimin. They’re in the same field; she would be able to spot designer in a split second. But thankfully it’s all pixelated when Jungkook zooms in and all that anyone can make out is a gold line.

 

“Wow – does he do that often? Just shower you with gifts for nothing in exchange?” Changkyun asks.

 

“Only that I spend time with him,” Bambam mutters honestly, then covers his mouth, wondering if that was too much of a slip. He shouldn’t be so anxious – without context, that shouldn’t mean anything significant.

 

“Bambam, you’re so spoiled,” Jimin breathes out. “We _have_ to meet him. There’s no way there’s a man that good out there. At this point I’m starting to think he’s a figment of our imagination.”

 

“I’m not sure if I want to sit through whatever gross shit they’re going to display if it’s as bad as Yugyeom says,” Minghao points at Bambam with a bone.

 

“I don’t care! How many months has it been? How is it possible we’ve never met him? How is it that out of all of us, it’s _Bambam_ that’s got more game than us?”

 

Everyone falls silent over their food while Bambam squirms nervously.

 

“Yeah, you’re right, _what the fuck_.”

 

“Is everyone free next Friday?” Nods. “Alright, let’s meet him then!”

 

“Wait!” Bambam nearly chokes over nothing. “You can’t just decide to meet him like that – he’s busy!”

 

“Well then, we’ll go based on his schedule.”

 

“He doesn’t get off work until late.”

 

“We’ve hung out at like two in the morning for pancakes before.”

 

“It’s really sporadic and inconvenient.”

 

“If you’re important to him then he’ll make time to meet us because we’re your friends.”

 

Bambam really has nothing to say to that. He pulls on a strained smile, “…I’ll ask.”

 

-

 

Bambam is _so_ not going to ask, he thinks all lecture. So many things could go wrong in a single hour – no, not even an hour, everything could go wrong in a _minute_. First of all, it’s already embarrassing enough that his friends are acting like he’s bringing a boy home to his parents (“Who else is looking after you if not us!”) but then having to explain to Jaebum why he can’t reveal too much about himself? It’s a headache _and a half_. He’s so caught up in trying to plan out his escape plans that he doesn’t even notice the surprised glances thrown his way or how noisily he’s tapping his foot. Bambam always dresses well and sticks out like a sore thumb with his tendency to wear bright colors – perhaps it’s even more ironic that he’s getting so much attention for dressing like a normal (worn out) college student for once.

 

Bambam doesn’t like wearing his glasses – they’re the old-fashioned metal-rimmed kind that grandmas like to use and have a chain hooked onto. Plus, they cover up his make up and don’t complete the look the way colored contacts do. But Bambam nearly overslept this morning and really only got up because Yugyeom dragged him off the bed.

 

Class is dismissed right on the dot, and Bambam packs up his belongings with a sigh. At least the professor didn’t go overtime, so he can comfortably walk to the bus stop without worrying about missing his ride to work. Bambam follows the crowd down the hall and towards the exit, waving at Jimin who he always passes by as she heads to her next class. Strangely, there seems to be a big commotion outside the building and it’s causing a lot of traffic for those trying to get out. Bambam scrunches up his face and internally curses whoever’s holding up the line. He inches his way out, mood getting fouler by the second as he realizes this is going to make him late for his bus.

 

Bambam stands on his toes and strains his neck to look above everyone’s heads but to little use – he’s shorter than some of the guys in front of him. They finally get outside, where the crowd immediately attempts to disperse. Bambam checks the time on his phone and sees that he only has six minutes left, so he circles around to head for a different path. Along the way, he catches glimpses of a black sports car through the gaps between people’s heads and almost scoffs.

 

Really? Traffic because some bastard decided to show off his Bugatti in the front entrance of the biggest building in university?

 

Bambam halts to a sudden stop, eliciting some shouts behind him. They shoot him nasty looks for blocking the way but Bambam is too shocked to care.

 

Bambam happens to know one “bastard” with a Bugatti.

 

One closer look reveals slim black slacks on long legs and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, the collar unbuttoned. Pitch-black sunglasses rest on the man’s chiseled face, and he looks effortlessly chic and unbothered by the attention that surrounds him. He has one hand in his front pocket while the other one holds his phone. When he tilts his head to the side and grinds his jaw out of habit, the glasses slide down his tall nose _just enough_ to reveal twin moles right above his left eye.

 

Jaebum looks _infuriatingly_ attractive. Bambam doesn’t know whether he wants to go punch Jaebum or the girls that are clearly checking him out and taking pictures on their phones.

 

**Jaebum hyung**

[Wed, Jan. 25, 2:54PM]

are you out of class yet?

 

Jaebum looks up the same moment Bambam ducks into the crowd and makes a mad dash right back into the building. He makes quick work up the stairs, sprinting across the now almost-empty hallways. Bambam nearly slams the door to Jimin’s class open, grateful that the professor isn’t there to chew him out.

 

“Bambam?” Jimin looks at him like he’s crazy. He kind of is.

 

“Jimin!” Bambam pulls his bun and glasses off at the same time. “Do you have your makeup bag with you?”

 

“Yeah–!”

 

“Can I borrow it, please?” Bambam cuts her off and claps his hands together above his head, begging.

 

“Isn’t it a little too late to fix your ugly face? Classes are over for you–!”

 

“Jimin, please.”

 

Jimin raises her eyebrows and swiftly digs into her purse for a little pink pouch. She tosses it to him, who thanks her quickly and in a second is out the door.

 

“Wait! Don’t dip into my new eyebrow gel!”

 

“Okay!” Bambam calls behind him.

 

He ends up in the men’s restroom, hunched over the sink with his face mere inches away from the mirror trying to get his eyebrows to look even. He knows he’s being ridiculous – it’s not like Jaebum hasn’t seen his bare face before but he panicked, okay? It’s the fact that Jaebum looked so polished combined with his pride that made him instinctively run back inside for some facial intervention.

 

His hair has a crimp from the hair tie but with some water and lots of ruffling, he can (hopefully) pull it off as a wavy style. He slaps on some concealer and runs a tinted lip balm on his lips on the way out. His outfit is a lost cause, so there’s no use mourning over it.

 

The crowd is still there – god, do people have nothing better to do? – and the thought of having to step out into the open like this makes him unbelievably self-conscious. He can catch some of the gossip that’s going around, and as expected, people wonder if Jaebum is a celebrity. He considers texting Jaebum to drive somewhere else, but it seems like such a hassle when Bambam could literally just suck it up and meet him right there.

 

Bambam breaks through, tightly squeezing the straps of his bag and looking up at Jaebum through his hair. It’s like a movie, Bambam thinks and bites his lip. It’s like a movie, the way Jaebum somehow manages to look up at the right moment, in the right direction, to lock eyes even though they’re some distance away. The buzzing from the crowd’s chatter that was so clear before simply fades away into a dull hum in the background. Jaebum’s smile is slow and wide, cat-like and deceptively smug all the way until he takes off his shades to reveal eyes so soft and fond it strips him off his image completely. The wind pushes a few strands of his hair to the side and he pushes his body forward, away from where he last leaned on the car. The subtle tilt of his head, the softening of his smile, and the lazy yet twinkling fixation of his gaze all seem to beckon Bambam forward and straight to him.

 

It’s unfair. Bambam doesn’t understand how his hyung can just _do this_ to him without any effort at all. He doesn’t have to try to get his cheeks warm, ears red. He doesn’t even have to lift a finger to get Bambam running towards him.

 

“Hi, baby,” Jaebum says quietly, just for the two of them. He holds out his hand for Bambam to take, lacing their fingers readily when Bambam does just that.

 

Bambam hides his face behind a sweater paw, unable to handle Jaebum’s sweet attention. His toes curl up in his shoes, and his heart flutters erratically. He can’t feel his face because he’s smiling so hard. “Hello,” he greets back, the sound muffled.

 

Jaebum opens the car door – and Bambam can’t tell whether the high-pitched shrieking came from him or the crowd that is still very much behind him.

 

Jaebum bought him flowers.

 

Pretty, pink flowers with names Bambam doesn’t even know.

 

“For you.”

 

Bambam takes the bouquet gingerly into his hand, staring at it in wonder. No one’s ever bought him flowers before – not in this context. He didn’t even know that he would like them so much. “Thank you,” he splutters, not knowing what else to say. It’s a big deal, right? Receiving flowers? It should definitely mean something? Bambam’s not _that_ big of an idiot to miss the social cue of getting fucking flowers, right? “Thank you – they’re so nice. _You’re_ so nice. You don’t have to get me anything; you already do so much for me.” Bambam rambles on and on, eyes wide and concentrated on the flowers. He’s jittery and he can literally feel the heat radiating from his face. He doesn’t dare to look up at Jaebum for fear of exploding into a bunch of confetti right then and there. Bambam’s so focused on spitting coherent sentences that even when he sees Jaebum pulling a small baby pink flower from the bouquet, it doesn’t register in his mind what’s going on.

 

Jaebum tucks it right behind his ear, where it stands out against his snow-white hair yet matches with his blush. Bambam shuts up, looking at him in surprise. His grip on both the bouquet and Jaebum’s hand tightens.

 

“ _Pretty_.”

 

It comes out as a breathy almost forlorn sigh. It comes out as though Bambam isn’t right in front of him, isn’t currently right within his grasp. Jaebum’s looking at him in this strange (lovesick) way that can only be described as detached, not in the sense that he’s ignoring him, but in the sense that he’s so hyperaware of him that his attention is completely captivated by the mere sight of Bambam. He’s looking at him like he’s some kind of beauty to behold, some kind of untouchable being that’s meant to be admired from afar.

 

And that intense, spellbound look bewilders Bambam. There’s no reason for Jaebum to look at him like this. Bambam’s at his all-time low right now and he’s pretty sure his concealer is a whole shade lighter and probably unblended. He’s dolled himself up so much before, yet Bambam doesn’t recall a single time when it was as bad as this. He doesn’t recall Jaebum ever looking so absolutely _smitten_ , and it’s so obvious that it would be embarrassing if it didn’t make him so happy to be the sole reason for it.

 

Why did he even doubt his hyung an hour or two ago? It’s okay that they don’t have a label yet. It’s this feeling that’s so much more important.

 

It feels like an eternity before at least one of them snap out of it – and of course, it has to be Bambam who snaps because at this point, Bambam thinks Jaebum’s got skin so thick no kind of public attention will bother him. Bambam purposefully ruins the moment by shoving the bouquet in his face, and Jaebum pulls the most offended face for a second that it causes him to laugh.

 

“Okay, hyung, let’s go. You’re causing a scene.” He stomps over to the passenger’s side. “Well?”

 

Jaebum rolls his eyes and snorts, but a fond smile ends up on his face anyway as he opens the door for Bambam to get in. “Brat,” he crinkles his nose at Bambam before slamming it shut. Bambam rolls down the tinted window just to stick his tongue out at him.

 

Jaebum drives out, and Bambam is glad to get away from all of that.

 

He plays with the flowers while asking, “Hyung, why’d you come?”

 

“I just wanted to surprise you. I haven’t seen you since your trip.”

 

Oh, right. It’s been almost two weeks, now that he thinks about it. Time goes by really fast whenever he’s behind schedule. It’s not like he’s cut off communicating with Jaebum though – in fact, he might text Jaebum even more than Yugyeom now, but don’t tell Yugyeom that.

 

“Oh, but I can’t go anywhere right now. I have work.”

 

“I know. I’m driving you there so you don’t have to take the bus.”

 

“You came just for that?” Bambam looks at him incredulously. Jaebum hums in confirmation. “How are you so free? Are you sure you’re the director of a multibillionaire corporation?”

 

Jaebum grins. “See, one of the many advantages of being a boss is being able to catch random breaks and have your employees fill in for your absence.”

 

“Your secretary must hate you.”

 

“Jinyoung’s hated me since we were kids, it’s fine.”

 

Bambam smiles. “No but, thank you. Really.”

 

Bambam gets to work early for a change, truly the work of a car’s convenience. Jaebum stops him from getting out of the car with a gentle hold on his wrist.

 

“Hold on, before I forget.” He opens the glove compartment, pulling out a fancy envelope. Bambam takes it into his hands and reads it aloud.

 

“‘An invitation for Mr. Im Jaebum…?’” Bambam looks at him questioningly. It’s apparently an invitation to a gala dinner. What’s that got to do with him?

 

“I want you to come with me as my date.”

 

If Bambam wasn’t sitting down, he would definitely be on the floor right now. “ _Me?_ ”

 

“Will you come?”

 

“I – well – yes?”

 

“Okay,” Jaebum sighs in relief, as if Bambam could ever say no. “Good. It’s two weeks from now. Don’t worry about it and focus on your studies. I’ll take care of everything.”

 

Jaebum tells him to keep the card; it’s basically a ticket. Bambam slides it into his bag, but worries flood in as he zips it up.

 

“Wait – this is a huge event. Are you sure I should be going? And if I do, shouldn’t I do some research at least?”

 

“Not everyone there will know what’s going on. Celebrities get invited all the time for press.”

 

“Yeah, but I’m none of that. And more importantly, I don’t want to look dumb next to you. I should be able to pull my own weight – it’s not your job to look after me all the time.”

 

Jaebum looks pleased by that, so Bambam makes a mental note to work extra hard to prepare for what’s coming. A part of him wants to sink down in exhaustion at the thought though. He’s already got so much to do. Between running around at the office and clutching his head at night desperately praying for inspiration to come to him, Bambam doesn’t know what’s worse. And now he’s got to do a crash course on everything business related (or at least what Jaebum does and who the big names are) on top of it. He’ll have to call up Mark to help him, even if it’s been a while since they’ve spoken.

 

“Okay, but don’t stress about it. I don’t expect you to be perfect – it’s not your expertise and that’s okay. I just want you by my side.”

 

The last bit of a confession there makes both of them shy, turning away with suppressed smiles and glee tickling beneath their skin.

 

Jaebum follows him out to the entrance of the office, reluctant to leave. “Coffee tomorrow?”

 

Bambam agrees, secretly glad they’ll be going back to the old routine at the café. “I’ll see you then, hyung. Have a good day.”

 

He smiles brightly, “It’s already been more than a good day.” Jaebum tilts Bambam’s chin upwards with gentle fingers and leans in for a long and sweet kiss. It’s a soft and simple press of the lips, warmth filling them up from the center of their hearts to the tips of their fingers. The wrapping of the bouquet crinkles as it gets increasingly crushed between them. Bambam smiles when Jaebum finally pulls away, eyes still closed. But perhaps it’s the sight of Bambam looking so pink and adorable that draws Jaebum right back in for another kiss. And another. It’s a real festering problem nowadays. Once he gets started, he can’t stop.

 

“Maybe just one more,” Jaebum mutters against Bambam’s giggles. “Last one.”

 

Bambam lets him get away with that and then puts up a hand between them for finality. “Enough already!” His eyes crinkle up into crescents above the flowers. Jaebum sweeps a thumb over his cheekbone in farewell and gets into his car. Bambam waves him off until he’s out of sight.

 

Throughout work he gets lots of questions and compliments about his flowers. But it’s not until Nana strides by with her stilettos and stops abruptly to look him up and down that he realizes he’s still got one tucked behind his ear. Bambam makes a move to take it off, but Nana stops him with her next sentence.

 

“No, it’s pretty,” she says. Then she pats the top of his head with a little smirk before turning around with a swish of her long blonde hair that almost slaps him in the face.

 

Bambam smiles. He really does feel pretty today.

 

-

 

At this rate, Bambam’s probably running on sheer caffeine. He’s just finished turning in his designs for the Spring/Summer collection at pushBUTTON and finally got the textiles he wanted for his own project. Everything is perfect so far, even if he did have to stay up some nights to draw out patterns and get chalk all over his hands. He visits Mark and Youngjae a total of three times, ringing the doorbell with a big smile and a bag of things to hand-sew while Mark, a certified business graduate and indie retailer, teaches him the basics. Bambam has one eye on Mark’s laptop and one on making sure he won’t prick his fingers with the needle. He can’t remember everything so quickly, but what he does get out of there, he does recognize that it’s really useful information if he ever decides to start an online boutique. It also helps him understand all those jargon he’s come across before; they would use to glaze over his eyes and tell him nothing he needed to know. On each of those nights, Youngjae can be heard practicing the piano in another room.

 

“He’s got a big gig coming up,” Mark explains. “I keep trying to tell him that he’ll be amazing but he still gets anxious and wants to practice until the sun comes up. You can imagine the neighbors not liking that.”

 

“I heard he was the same for the winter showcase,” Bambam frowns sympathetically. “Youngjae hyung did so well! I’m sure he’ll put up a great performance.”

 

“I’ll tell him you said that,” Mark smiles.

 

“Also…can you repeat everything you just said? I wasn’t paying attention.”

 

The smile is wiped off Mark’s face, turning into a cold stare.

 

Meanwhile, the group can’t even gather together all at once, let alone meet Jaebum. Someone’s always busy with this or that, resulting in a half-empty table.

 

“Soon,” Bambam promises, for real this time. After spending some time away from brooding over the complexity of his relationship with Jaebum, he’s come to the conclusion that he’s been the one making a big deal out of it all by himself. As long as he explains everything, it’ll be fine. He’s _almost_ 100% sure about it. (Or just tired of making excuses and digging up lies.)

 

Everyone nods to it tiredly, and the topic is swept under the rug again in favor of napping.

 

Two days before the night of the gala, Jaebum calls Bambam to tell him that he won’t be able to pick him up. He sounds a little bitter about it, which Bambam thinks is sort of cute. It’s not a problem though – apparently Jaebum’s already made plans to send a driver instead.

 

“ _I’ll be with you by the time we reach the red carpet, so don’t worry_.”

 

Bambam must be hearing things. He’s only been getting like three hours of sleep anyway. “There’s a red carpet?”

 

“ _Oh. Did I forget to tell you?_ ”

 

Yugyeom walks into the kitchen just in time to see Bambam clutching his head over the sink, phone cast aside. He’s making fake sobbing sounds to what looks like a dropped cookie.

 

“It’s just a cookie,” Yugyeom snorts and laughs.

 

“IT’S JUST A COOKIE,” Bambam mocks loudly, borderline screaming. “IT’S NOT JUST A COOKIE.”

 

Yugyeom’s eyebrows go up to his hairline – “Whoa…” The stress must be making him crazy. “Ooookay.” Yugyeom fills up his water bottle and leaves the crazy person alone.

 

The day before the gala, Bambam jolts awake from the doorbell. It’s a good thing he’s stopped wearing contacts for the time being. It would be dangerous to sleep with them on. He’s also drooled on his sketchbook, which is fantastic.

 

“Kun…pimook…”

 

“Bhuwakul,” Bambam helps the mailman finish. “That’s me.” He yawns and lazily watches him pull a pen from his breast pocket. It belatedly comes to him that he hasn’t ordered anything online recently.

 

“Sign here, please.”

 

He dumbly signs it anyway, getting a shock when a huge black box is entrusted into his arms.

 

“Have a nice day!”

 

Bambam takes it into his room and pulls on the white ribbon. He hates that he already knows who sent it and what could possibly be in it. Bambam grumbles as he rips through the box, sending the tissue paper flying in the room. _Of course_ , he furrows his eyebrows. _Of course it’s Saint Laurent, of course he would attack my weakness_. Bambam opens the lid of a smaller box inside, revealing a red velvet blazer. _Of course_ , it’s beautiful. He flops onto the floor, eyes rolling to the ceiling with an agonized look. Pros: he has an outfit ready. Cons: Bambam is already ass-deep in debt and this is not helping. To make it worse, Bambam can’t complain to anyone when he’s been dying to yap his mouth off over how unfair Jaebum hyung is. It’ll be easier when his friends find out the full story – but for now, he’ll have to live with it.

 

Nonetheless, he wears everything that Jaebum sends him and spends hours locked up in his room getting ready on D-day. Although he does want to look good for the camera, he mostly spends the extra effort because he wants to be told he’s pretty again. He wants Jaebum to keep his eyes on him the entire night, wants to drive him crazy with how good he looks. He wants all of his attention and all of his affection – just thinking of this makes Bambam feel so greedy, but he can’t help it. He can’t help but crave for the love Jaebum showers upon him, not when Jaebum has never been abashed with it and has turned him into an addict.

 

The driver shows up in front of his apartment exactly at four o’clock, as promised. Bambam does a final check by twirling around the mirror one last time before heading out. He feels confident about tonight. It’s his first time as such a high-profile event, but he’s strangely not concerned about it. He’s practiced his table manners, smoothed out his speech, and learned as much as he could about the industry. He’s pulled his hair up and kept his makeup at a minimum (save for the signature satin brown shadow as a liner) for a fresh look. The red velvet blazer on top of a sleek silk dress shirt and heeled boots has him looking like a million bucks. Who would guess that he’s got only coupons in his wallet? (To be fair, Bambam is horrible about maintaining cash and always forgets to go to the bank.) He’ll be the best date Jaebum has ever had…okay scratch that, maybe just a decent date. Bambam’s not _that_ confident to compare to whomever else Jaebum’s been with in the past.

 

Bambam tries not to trip when he sees that it’s a limo that’s waiting for him. The driver, a middle-aged man, bows to him, and he’s so flustered that he bows right back. The door is opened for him to get in, and to his surprise, it’s not empty.

 

“Oh!” Bambam’s mouth drops open a little. “Hello.”

 

Jinyoung’s carefully blank face stares him down as he awkwardly greets him, half-waving and half-bowing. He doesn’t say anything back. His legs are crossed and his hands are folded on his knees.

 

Bambam’s smile falters a little. He steps inside, taking a seat across from Jinyoung and feeling the pressure to sit up straight, hands on his lap. The air conditioning is turned on high and adds to the cold apprehension he feels settling in his stomach. The driver’s shutting of the door sounds awfully final, as if it’s foreboding his demise.

 

“Good afternoon, Mr. Bhuwakul. I believe this is our first proper meeting.” A polite smile stretches across his face.

 

Bambam tries to stop his eye from twitching at the formal, stuck-up speech. _Geez, did the curry give him diarrhea or something?_ “Yes, it’s nice to meet you.”

 

A heavy, uncomfortable silence stretches through a good portion of the ride. Bambam’s normally good at this – at making small talk and making friends. But of course, that’s only under the premise that the other party is open to friendliness. Jinyoung, on the other hand, isn’t even looking at him and has his head held high, gazing upon the road instead. Bambam has an itch that he’s afraid to scratch, just for the reason that Jinyoung’s attention might snap over to the movement. And for some reason, that’s a lot scarier than it should be.

 

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Bambam breaks the silence (after a mental pep talk). “Jaebum hyung likes to complain about work.” He smiles, trying to lighten up the mood.

 

“Does he?” Jinyoung’s eyes narrow for a split second, the light withdrawing from them. His face is still kept neutral and polite, but Bambam gets the feeling that Jinyoung didn’t like something about what he said. Bambam doesn’t get it though – it’s not like he’s said something offensive or done something wrong. They’ve literally just met five minutes ago. Bambam does dumb things sometimes but he can’t fuck up in only five minutes – give him more credit.

 

“I’ve heard a lot about you as well,” Jinyoung says right before Bambam was about to sink back in defeat. It was like talking to a wall. From what he can recall at Jaebum’s place while he was hiding in the pantry room, Jinyoung doesn’t normally talk like this. He’s a little sassy towards Jaebum, but that’s basically a childhood friend’s right. Point is: it shouldn’t be this difficult to get a conversation going.

 

Bambam is about to reply when Jinyoung continues speaking in a tight tone. Suddenly, they’re eye to eye, and Bambam holds his breath at the startling hostility.

 

“I don’t know how you’ve got him wrapped around your finger like this, but I suggest you stop now before I get involved.”

 

It’s so unexpected that it’s numbing. Bambam can only stare blankly at Jinyoung in shock, frozen and confused. The words don’t make sense to him, even when it echoes loudly in his head.

 

“ _What?_ ” comes out of his mouth softly.

 

“I’ll be brief with you,” Jinyoung looks away as if it’s physically hard for him to be looking at Bambam, to be looking at _filth_. “You’re not the first of your kind that I’ve had to deal with. I’ll admit that you have…skill.” He pauses and looks sick. “You’ve lasted much longer than the rest – but you’re not special.”

 

It’s Bambam’s turn to look and _feel_ sick, his eyes hardening and his teeth clenching as he becomes increasingly aware of what’s going on. “Excuse me? I don’t know what kind of misconception you have about me but you can’t just disrespect –!”

 

“Look,” Jinyoung snaps. “I don’t play games with _whores_.”

 

Bambam’s blood runs ice-cold.

 

“Jaebum may be soft on you but I won’t. I don’t tolerate anyone who dares to take advantage of Im Jaebum.”

 

His hands unknowingly fist up tightly, his nails digging into his palm. “I’m not a whore,” Bambam grits out. It’s painful to have to even verbalize that – it’s something he’s never thought he’d have to say. “I’m not after his money.”

 

Jinyoung tilts his head up, eyeing the clothes on his body down. “And yet you enjoy riding on the coattails of his ‘generous gifts?’”

 

Shame heats up his body and bites at his vision. _It’s not like that_ , Bambam thinks. But the visuals are so incriminating that he doesn’t know how or where to begin to defend himself without sounding weak and dumb. He feels trapped, suffocated. He hates this. He hates this, he hates this –

 

“I understand that you are a college student,” Jinyoung’s voice softens mockingly. “I understand that you are young and aspiring. However this lavish and luxurious lifestyle may seem enticing, it demands hard work and _morals_. This is not how you obtain your dreams.”

 

_Fuck you_ , Bambam curses angrily in his head. What does Jinyoung know about his work ethic, about his fucking “morals?”

 

Jinyoung takes the silence as defeat, and smiles inwardly. The young ones are so easy – and this one happens to be the youngest of them all. “This will be the last time I see you,” he declares. “It’s too late to stop you from attending the gala – which is a failure on my part. But know that after this, you are expected to distance yourself from Jaebum. You are not fitting to stand by his side.”

 

“You’re _wrong_ ,” Bambam sucks in a breath. “You don’t know _anything_ about us. I know that he’s careless with his wealth with me – but I don’t sell sex to gain his favor. I don’t call him up to pay my bills. I’m here because I _like_ him.”

 

“Because you _like_ him.” Jinyoung closes his eyes, but Bambam can tell that he’s rolling them behind his lids.

 

“And _he_ likes _me_.”

 

“Oh but of _course_ he likes you,” Jinyoung smiles. “You’re such a pretty young thing, he’s infatuated.” His eyes darken. “It doesn’t mean a thing. You don’t mean a single thing to him – and it’s in your best interest to get out of the picture before you tarnish his name with your presence. I won’t allow him to be hurt in any way. I will not hesitate to make it hard on you. This is your final warning, and it is not negotiable.”

 

Bambam has to turn his head away to calm himself down. The wetness that threatens to spill from his eyes isn’t from fear or sadness – it’s from scorching anger and bitter humiliation. The worst part is that Jinyoung is the epitome of all of his nightmares. Everything he’s saying is what Bambam had already known from the back of his head. It’s what he knew other people would think when they look outwardly at him and Jaebum. It’s why all those months ago, when he first received that business card, he knew he shouldn’t have kept it and shouldn’t have given Jaebum his number. He knew that this kind of day would inevitably come – but just because he knew it doesn’t mean it hurts any less to have it so plainly and harshly laid out in front of him. It doesn’t mean that he wasn’t weak and vulnerable to Jaebum’s advances or had the same doubts himself. And now it’s too late, because he also knows that he wouldn’t give up Jaebum under any circumstances, not if he can help it.

 

“I’m not who you think I am. I’m not a pushover and this _won’t_ be the last time I see him. You have no business meddling with his life. Just because you’re his best friend doesn’t give you this right.”

 

“I see you have chosen. I’ll expose you. I’ll show him who you really are and what you’re after.”

 

“Search me all you want – you won’t find a damn thing.”

 

The tension remains thick for the deathly silent ride. Neither of them look at each other after that – there’s nothing else to discuss. Bambam fumes by himself, deeply upset. His emotions distract him so much that the long ride feels like minutes, and suddenly the limo is lined up near the front of the red carpet. Jaebum is supposed to meet him soon so that they can enter the gala together.

 

Moments before Jaebum comes in, Jinyoung says one last thing.

 

“Remember that you are Im Jaebum’s date. Keep your head up high. Smile, and look pretty. That’s what you’re here for.”

 

He slips out, and Bambam can hear Jaebum’s surprised, “You came?”

 

Bambam closes his eyes heavily. He didn’t need Jinyoung to tell him that. As much as he wants to ruin everything just to spite him, that’s not going to benefit him or Jaebum. He came here because Jaebum asked him to, and he prepared for it because he, too, didn’t want to be a setback. Bambam takes in a deep breath and opens his eyes the moment Jaebum gets in. They’re still lined up for now, maybe just two more guests until it’s their turn.

 

“Hey.” Jaebum smiles, grabbing his hand. “You look beautiful.”

 

It doesn’t feel good to hear that right now, but Jaebum looks so genuine and happy that Bambam forces a smile back. “Thank you. You look handsome, hyung.” As always.

 

The red carpet happens as though Bambam was watching from someone else’s perspective. He must’ve been unfocused and still hung down by what happened in the car so all he can remember is flashing cameras blinding his vision and smiling until his cheeks are sore. He remembers standing tall, shoulders relaxed and hands politely kept to himself. Jaebum guides him on where to look and where to go, all by keeping a hand on the small of his back. Jaebum does it so much that Bambam has half the wit to worry that all the pictures will end up just capturing Jaebum looking at him. That won’t be good. Bambam’s just a nobody after all. The focus shouldn’t be shifted to him this way.

 

It’s an extravagant ballroom, regal and lighted by sparkling chandeliers. The multitude of white and pristine tables seems to run endlessly in circles before stopping at a large stage, no doubt where the entertainment will be held tonight. Each of the tables has a centerpiece stacked tall with peonies and gold leaves, all encircled by floating tea lights in artfully blown glass filled with water. It’s hosted by Lotte, and Bambam can see the sponsorship of Im Financial Group listed. They’ll be sitting in one of the front tables later – Jaebum is scheduled to present a speech some time in between to represent the CEO and the company’s eagerness to establish a partnership with Lotte for the upcoming years.

 

As guests are still entering and some will be expected to be late, everyone present is simply mingling in the open space with wine in hand for the meantime. Bambam feels compelled to pick up a glass as well, so he does. He’s torn between wanting to chug the entire thing to waste away his wounds or to ignore it completely if only to lower his chances of making a fool out of himself.

 

People flock to Jaebum immediately, congratulating him for his recent successes and other well wishes. While Jaebum is busy, Bambam takes the opportunity to take a step back so that he won’t get in anyone’s way. He does introduce himself briefly to those who are curious enough to ask though.

 

Bambam looks at Jaebum’s figure from the back, and for the first time, feels a poignant sadness seeping into his flesh. The world of difference in their class is apparent and it makes him feel small and distant. Insignificant. He looks around at the glamor surrounding him and then at himself. He doesn’t fit in, no matter how much he’s dressed to look the part. It takes more than just pretty clothes and pretty shoes – it takes prestige and a demeanor that’s been in-born and cultured. It can be seen in anyone around him, the way they move naturally elegant. And for Bambam, it’s just a copy, a fake amongst diamonds.

 

“Bam-ah.” Jaebum grabs his attention by cupping his cheek. Murmurs arise upon this action, and Bambam shies away from the touch, clearing his throat and stepping back. That’s not good. He shouldn’t be giving reason for people to talk. He wishes Jaebum wouldn’t act this way in such a high-profile event. It makes it hard for Bambam to stay in the background and protect Jaebum’s image.

 

The corners of Jaebum’s mouth tilt downward for a second at Bambam’s retreat. But in a blink, it disappears and he’s back to gazing upon him tenderly. “Let’s go check out the chocolate fountain.”

 

No one’s there at the dessert table, so at least that helps him relax a little. Bambam gets busy with stacking strawberries and dunking them under the waterfall of dark chocolate. He wipes off the excess and hands them carefully to Jaebum. Jaebum likes strawberries. And it’s better for Bambam to get messy between the two of them; Jaebum has a speech and a white shirt after all.

 

“Is something bothering you?” Jaebum asks.

 

“No – what makes you think so?” Bambam smiles then looks back at the gala. It’s full and bustling now.

 

“I…never mind.”

 

Bambam gives his arm a reassuring squeeze.

 

“Jinyoung never told me he was going to send you off.” Bambam stiffens. He realizes his mistake and forces his body to relax, hoping Jaebum didn’t notice. “How did your first meeting go?”

 

“Great.” Bambam considers it an accomplishment that he didn’t spit on Jaebum’s face right then and there with the sole mention of Jinyoung’s name. God, the hurt is too fresh right now. “He’s…straightforward.”

 

Jaebum raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirked up in amusement. “Oh? That’s true. He doesn’t have a very good filter sometimes. I’m just surprised he didn’t say anything about going to see you. What did you two talk about?”

 

“That’s a secret.” Jinyoung is his best friend. Bambam wouldn’t want to cause anything. Any bad blood will have to stay between him and Jinyoung until they solve it.

 

Jaebum’s face falls, worry etched into his forehead. “You didn’t talk about me, did you?”

 

Bambam actually manages to laugh a little.

 

“Don’t tell me – did he show you my old pictures? _God, I wouldn’t put it past him to do me dirty like that_ ,” Jaebum grumbles the last part to himself.

 

“He didn’t. But seeing your reaction, now I’m curious.”

 

Bambam visibly lightens up, and that’s enough to relieve Jaebum.

 

The dinner starts with them taking their seats among other directors and their wives. They make the usual rounds of small talk and hints of business negotiations. Bambam nods to everything they say and smiles when necessary – the whole conversation seems so vague yet their eyes drip with meanings Bambam can’t catch. Bambam belated realizes that the middle-aged woman next to him has been watching him the entire time.

 

She’s eerily wearing the same polite smile that Jinyoung wears, and Bambam wonders if that’s A Thing for the pompous and rich.

 

“Sweetheart, I didn’t catch your name?”

 

“My name is Kunpimook Bhuwakul. I’m usually called Bambam, ma’am.”

 

She lightly presses the tips of his fingers together, a little awed sound escaping her. “Ah! A foreigner. That’s new.” She looks at Jaebum, who is preoccupied with another businessman, as she says that. Bambam lets himself follow her gaze before coming back to her. Her tone of voice makes it sound like…like Jaebum has brought many different dates before. Perhaps mostly Korean women.

 

“Do tell, are you a model, child?”

 

A little surprised, Bambam smiles and shakes his head. “No. I’m…a fashion designer.” It’s strange, being able to say that. He still considers himself a mere student, but revealing that aspect isn’t impressive in this environment. And it’s technically true that he’s a designer – he does have a job.

 

“A shame. You’re such a pretty young thing.”

 

Bambam’s smile freezes up. He’s a beat late, but he thanks her for her compliment and pretends to pay attention to the emcee starting up the show. A pretty young thing. He’s heard that twice today alone and it irks him somehow, rubs against his skin the wrong way. Bambam doesn’t like the way it sounds. “Pretty” is a compliment he’ll take any day – but to add a “thing” next to it? It makes him sound like an item. It’s as if they see his presence next to Jaebum as an accessory he brought along to display – ah.

 

Bambam looks down at his lap.

 

That’s exactly it. No one is taking him seriously as a person because he doesn’t have a _name_ to him.

 

His mood turns sour once again, but he can’t afford to let it show.

 

The appetizer, salad, entrée, and dessert were okay. Or maybe they were delicious. Bambam can’t tell because it all tastes like ash in his mouth. He made sure that his table manners were polished though.

 

He feels a squeeze on his thigh under the table and looks up to meet Jaebum’s eyes. He looks worried, and although they both have to stay quiet in respect for the current speaker, Bambam can see the question on his face.

 

_Are you okay?_

 

He supposes he’s been quieter than usual. Maybe even uncharacteristically so.

 

_I’m fine_ , he hopes to convey by laying his hand on top of Jaebum’s. _I’m fine_ , he repeats in his head, and will continue to do so for the next hour. Jaebum hesitantly leaves his side when it’s his time to deliver his speech. It’s a professional one, cleverly said and charmingly executed. Bambam claps his hardest and smiles his brightest and most genuine smile of the whole night. They hold eye contact throughout the thunder of applause and Bambam looks at him with pride. It would be an even greater moment if Bambam didn’t feel so weighed down and tired.

 

As a break for the evening, a clearing is made for dancing and the tables are wiped clean of their plates. Countless of staff work in unison to change up the entire look of the ballroom in a single sweep. Roses replace the peonies and the lights are made slightly dimmer for a romantic ambience. The guests are left to socialize once again.

 

Jaebum stands up and asks him for a dance. With all of the eyes watching them, Bambam can’t say no. He realizes quickly that it’s Jaebum’s plan to get them alone. No one will bother them while they’re dancing, so it’s a perfect place to talk privately.

 

“You’re so quiet,” he begins. Bambam follows his feet, sidestepping across the floor. “Do you not like it here?”

 

“No, I like it,” Bambam automatically replies. The words sound empty. Jaebum holds his waist tighter.

 

“You’ve never had to lie to me before,” Jaebum says lowly, a tinge of sorrow enveloping his voice. Jaebum spins him once, and then pulls him back in.

 

“Sorry,” Bambam murmurs. He wishes he didn’t feel like this. He feels like he’s ruining Jaebum’s night, and Bambam never wanted that to happen. They dance for a little bit longer in silence.

 

“…Maybe I shouldn’t have asked you to come.”

 

Bambam’s head snaps up, and when he looks at Jaebum, the tears prickle his eyes much faster than anything else in the whole night. He trembles involuntarily, brows sown together in hurt. Jaebum’s mouth drops open and he immediately holds Bambam’s head into his neck, arms wrapped around him even tighter than ever before. He keeps them moving just for the semblance of dancing.

 

“No – I’m sorry – baby, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. I just thought maybe you would’ve been happier at home because you’re not comfortable here. I don’t mean to upset you, or force you into anything you don’t like.”

 

He means well. But Bambam had been on the cusp of breaking and it only took one moment of misunderstanding to tip the scale. Bambam pushes a hand between them. “I’m going to the restroom.”

 

Jaebum takes a step with him – “No, hyung, _alone_.”

 

Jaebum watches his small retreating figure, full of regrets. Bambam’s posture is still impeccably tall, and aside from anyone paying attention to his reddening eyes, no one would be able to tell that he was crying. He disappears for the rest of the dance and well into the next portion of the gala. Jaebum anxiously waits for him, constantly checking where he had disappeared into and staring at the empty seat next to him instead of the show. He claps mindlessly for an uncertain amount of performances.

 

Bambam slides into his seat suddenly and startles Jaebum. Jaebum stares at him openly. He looks…fine. And Jaebum doesn’t know what to make of that, the fact that he’s able to hide all of his pain so well without a single flaw. He wonders if Bambam really does feel better.

 

They miss the introduction of another performance, too busy eyeing each other down and battling to be the last one to give the other a comforting squeeze of the hand. It gets kind of ridiculous, and Bambam smiles and scoffs in the other direction.

 

The soft melody of a piano starts playing, and Bambam looks up at the stage when it slowly registers to him that he’s heard this song before.

 

He feels the air being punched out of his lungs as his frightened eyes settle on the pianist. He’s sitting at the front table, and Bambam prays to _god_ that he never looks this way.

 

_Please. Please, please, don’t look_.

 

Youngjae’s head lifts up, and his line of sight falls straight on Bambam.

 

His fingers shake, and it’s only by muscle memory that he miraculously manages to pull through without a hitch.

 

Bambam hangs his head in defeat – it’s all over.

 

-

 

(“What are you doing here?!”

 

“Hyung, please, _please_ don’t tell the others yet. Not like this. I didn’t mean to keep it a secret for so long, I swear!”

 

“Don’t you see who you’re with? I – I don’t even know what to say…Bambam, the others have to know.”

 

“Hyung…”

 

“You need to end this, right now. It’s not healthy. You’re worrying me…”)

 

-

 

They don’t even give him room to breathe, cornering him in his own home and condemning him with their silence. Bambam hugs his knees to his chest on the couch. His dark eyes have heavy bags under them from lack of sleep in the past two days. His heart aches, and it makes the rest of his body desolate. He can’t feel anything else aside from the consuming misery and dread. He’s already told them everything that needs to be told, from the beginning until the very end, and now he’s just sitting here and waiting for someone, anyone to say something. The clock ticks loudly.

 

“…This changes everything…” Jimin says aloud to herself.

 

Yugyeom’s concentrated on the floor. Changkyun doesn’t have any jokes. Minghao isn’t hiding any of his concern. Jungkook stares into the distance.

 

“I don’t even know where to begin,” she frowns. Bambam closes his eyes and braces himself for the impact. “I…I don’t like the sound of him paying for your tuition. I don’t like that he’s buying you all these expensive, flashy things.”

 

“He’s a lot older than you, Bam.” Changkyun’s deep voice resonates in the quiet apartment.

 

“Why is that such a problem?”

 

“You know exactly why!” Jimin raises her voice, and Bambam winces into his knee. “He’s taking advantage of you by chaining you down with his money! As an adult, he should know better than to get involved with someone so young relative to his age and that – that just bothers me, you know? It bothers me that he’s not mature enough to place a red light on this…he’s…he’s roping you in with such ludicrous ways…and that’s not okay.”

 

“He’s not taking advantage of me…”

 

“Bambam – we know you’ve been spending your nights with him. You told us yourself.”

 

Bambam’s head aches. It always goes back to that point. “Why are you guys just assuming things?”

 

“What else is there to know? Yugyeom’s seen it all!” She points to Yugyeom, who cowers at the mention of his name. He still doesn’t raise his head.

 

“What if I want him just as much as he wants me? What if it’s mutual? Is it still a problem then?” Bambam peers at Jimin, and they exchange hard stares.

 

“Yes. He started all this. He went forward and touched you when he shouldn’t have.”

 

He releases his knees and tightens his fist around a pillow. “Is that it?” Bambam shakes as he spits out the next sentence. “Is it that important if he fucks me?” He can hear the entire room stop breathing, each tick of the clock dividing them by the second.

 

“ _No_ – we’re just – trying to protect you.” Minghao gasps.

 

“I don’t _need_ protection. I can take care of myself. I can make my own choices.”

 

“He’s not good for you. He’ll hurt you later and we just want you to be happy –!”

 

“ _You’re_ hurting me _now_!” Bambam cries. Jimin’s face twists pitifully. That too, hurts Bambam. It shouldn’t have to come down to this. “Why isn’t it sufficient that I like him? Why won’t you take my word when I say he’s not a bad person? Why can’t you just trust me, and not tell me to end it all for the reason that you doubt our future?” Tears race down his cheeks, but he makes no move to wipe them or to look away.

 

“ _Why don’t my feelings matter?_ ”

 

Bambam whips around to Yugyeom. “Gyeom.” Yugyeom stiffens, but he does look up into Bambam’s hard face. “You’re on my side, right?”

 

Bambam waits for a response, for a simple “yes.” He waits even as he watches Yugyeom’s eyes cast downwards to his hands. He waits even when Yugyeom swallows harshly and lets time run too far.

 

“Bambam,” Jungkook appeases.

 

“No. I want to hear what he says.”

 

Yugyeom shoves his face into his hands. Another minute, and Bambam closes his eyes to the sound of his heart breaking.

 

“Never mind. I got my answer.”

 

He takes long strides into his room, ignoring his friends’ calls to wait.

 

“And for the record,” he cuts them. “I’m still a virgin.”

 

Bambam slams the door shut.

 

-

 

Yugyeom waits until late at night to check up on Bambam. After a few knocks and hesitant calls, he finds that the door is unlocked. He turns the knob slowly, as to not wake him up. What he finds is an empty bed, Bambam’s backpack gone. His sketchbook, assignments, and laptop are gone too. Bambam’s gone.

 

-

 

Jaebum’s not home, but he has nowhere else to go.

 

Bambam sits outside the entrance for god knows how long. When Jaebum does find him, he’s almost half asleep on the floor.

 

“Bambam?” Jaebum rushes to his side. “What are you doing out here? Why didn’t you call me?”

 

“I forgot to charge my phone.”

 

Bambam lets himself be carried inside; lets Jaebum pamper him with warm milk and warm clothes, followed by an even warmer embrace in bed. He kisses his forehead and strokes his hair. It’s so nice and Bambam is so, so tired.

 

“Hyung,” Bambam asks in the darkness. “How would you describe me?”

 

“Seriously?”

 

“Seriously.”

 

“Adorable. Beautiful. Hard working. Funny. Considerate.”

 

“And yours?”

 

“What?”

 

“Would you describe me as yours?”

 

Jaebum pauses, pulling away just enough to look at Bambam. “ _Yes_ – if you’d let me… _God, yes_.”

 

“And I? Can I call you mine?” Bambam rests his fingertips on Jaebum’s heart. Jaebum clutches his hand, presses them flat on his chest.

 

“Been yours from the start.”

 

Bambam curls inwards, grinning from ear to ear but also wiping his eyes. “There you go again, slicing up cheese from your mouth.”

 

“What – as if your question wasn’t a set up for me to churn out greasy lines!”

 

Bambam laughs with his entire body, shaking in Jaebum’s arms. “So we’re together? Officially? Boyfriends?”

 

Jaebum grins as well, soaring. “Yeah.”

 

Bambam lets out the cutest, bashful giggle that compels Jaebum to cradle his face upwards –

 

“Are you crying?” Jaebum sucks in a sharp breath.

 

Bambam nods, wiping his eyes with his palms. “I’m just happy.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm not dead! I barely survived midterms! But don't kill me for this chapter OTL I LOVE BAMBAM I DON'T MEAN TO HURT HIM /sweats. 
> 
> I understand that Jinyoung...isn't like-able right now L O L but all I can say is: trust me? :D
> 
> Once again, I'd like to apologize for taking so, so long to write. I feel really bad whenever this happens. ;n; All I can say is thank you so much if you've been waiting and are still sticking around. Your support means so much! Thank you!
> 
> (BBIIIIITTTTCH do y'all see...bam's new red hair...AND him wearing his specs? I'm shook and smitten.)


	5. give me time, give me trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Implied Sexual Content, Implied Drugging (both very minor, but I thought I should be safer than sorry)
> 
> I've also bumped up the rating in preparation of upcoming chapters!

 

 

**Yugyeommie**

[Wed, Feb. 15, 5:43PM]

I’m sorry

 

**Yugyeommie**

[Thu, Feb. 16, 7:24AM]

I’m sorry, Bam

 

**Yugyeommie**

[Thu, Feb. 16, 8:04PM]

Bam, come home. I miss you.

 

-

 

Bambam puts his phone away. There’s not much to look at if he wants to avoid accidentally tapping on the messages notification and showing his friends that he’s been seeing every apology and plead to bring him back. He’s not angry with them, probably never was. But Bambam just wants some time alone – some time to put himself back together before facing whatever’s in store for him. It’s their first serious fight as a group. Nothing has ever come between them before. They’ve never been on the opposite side of the battlefield. To get that kind of reaction, that kind of estrangement, simply just hurts. It might be unfair to Yugyeom, but Bambam feels especially hurt by his lack of support. Bambam’s really not ready to face any of them yet, afraid of what will happen to them now that there is a reason to cause divide.

 

Bambam goes back to work. He’s made a mess out of the kitchen island, multiple pages of his incomplete sketches, designs, and magazine clip-outs scattered across its entire length. He’s been ambitious with his project, finding incredible inspiration in haute couture dresses instead of his usual adoration for menswear. The only thing he regrets about taking refugee in Jaebum’s condo is that fact that he’s forgotten to grab his bag with his half-finished dress in it. And considering how the first mock evaluation workshop is coming up soon, his time here is limited. He’ll have to come back to the apartment if he values making progress in the fashion show.

 

He rests his chin on his hand, sighing in awe at what must be the third time he’s watched the Elie Saab S/S 2016 runway show. It’s his favorite so far.

 

Jaebum comes home with a little hope in his step, a curious eye darting around in search of a certain boy. Not even the soft meow of Nora greeting him at the entrance can stop him from anxiously and pleasantly spotting all the clues of life sprinkled around the house. The first sign is the carelessly placed pair of boots by the door. (Bambam had toed them off quickly after a long day of school and work, promptly collapsing on the couch for a good half hour.) The second is a box of sweet tarts hanging dangerously off an end table. (Bambam was totally going to put them away, but Nora wouldn’t stop bothering him for food.) When the whole living room comes into view, there’s a ring of condensation on the coffee table of where a drink has been. (Bambam actually started working with the TV as background noise until he couldn’t handle sitting on the floor anymore, migrating everything to where he is now.)

 

Jaebum tidies everything up and follows the light emitting from the kitchen.

 

He leans against the wall, letting the sight of Bambam sink into memory.

 

Bambam is earnestly studying from the textbook, writing on sticky notes and lining the pages with bookmarks in multiple colors. His full bottom lip is drawn into his mouth, bitten in concentration and his circular glasses threaten to slip off the bridge of his nose. His hair is pulled back by a stretchy black headband, tucked right behind his ears and causing them to endearingly stick out. The hoodie that he’s in completely engulfs him – Jaebum remembers purchasing it a size up years ago for the purpose of (very expensive) sleeping clothes. And now on Bambam, the soft and thoroughly worn material bunches up right at his midsection and covers almost all of his shorts. (“It’s cold,” Bambam whined the other night, prompting Jaebum to lend him a sweater and fleece pants. “It’s hot,” he took off the pants in five minutes. And Jaebum had the sweet sight and pleasure of having Bambam’s bare and smooth legs tangled up with his beneath the covers until an accidental brush of the hand on the upper thigh sent Bambam red and running. Red, Jaebum thinks, is his favorite color.)

 

There’s something special about this. There’s something special about the past few days, in which Jaebum has a reason to want to stay in bed, to finally want “just five more minutes” when he’s been living like clockwork for so many years. There’s something that tugs at his heartstrings at a mere five o’clock in the afternoon, causing him to automatically reach for his phone just to look at the lock screen. But the sight of Bambam just makes him burn from the inside even more, wanting to finish everything already so he can be close with the real thing.

 

And then there’s the aspect of coming home, not alone. He’s surprised each time he finds shoes that aren’t his and when Nora won’t touch her food because she’s already been fed. It’s so strange, to have the little things thrown askew like this.

 

But the best part –

 

“Oh! Hyung, you’re back!” Bambam slips off the stool, rushing over with his arms open and ready to loop around Jaebum’s head. His socked feet make padding noises across the floor. When he leans in eagerly for a kiss, they both forget about his glasses and bump noses instead, laughing against each other’s necks.

 

– is this.

 

Jaebum peels off his glasses and presses soft, light kisses on his lids before bending down for a harder one on the lips. Bambam melts into his embrace the same moment Jaebum wraps his arms tighter around Bambam’s waist. When they break apart, Bambam smiles up at him blushingly, eyes glimmering through happy crescents. Jaebum smiles back, but his hand clenches around the material of Bambam’s hoodie behind his back. _I want to keep him_. His chest constricts yet expands all at once. _I want to keep him so bad_.

 

“Did you eat yet?”

 

He did.

 

“I left something in the fridge for you just in case. I thought you’d be out later.”

 

But he’ll eat again.

 

Jaebum pops the pan-fried noodles in the microwave and turns around to see Bambam cleaning up the island. “You don’t have to put everything away. Maybe just your right side.” Bambam hums in acknowledgment and slides his magazines forward. Jaebum sits next to him with a steaming plate, glancing at all of the papers left around with curiosity.

 

Bambam notices his eyes on the mess and sheepishly tries to line them up better. “Sorry. I’m usually neater.” Only because his desk at home is a third of the island’s size.

 

“Oh – that doesn’t bother me. I was just looking at your work. It suddenly hit me that I don’t know anything about what you do. I can’t believe I never asked.”

 

“To be fair, I didn’t know anything about your job until recently either.”

 

“That doesn’t excuse it – I should be more involved. I can’t support you if I don’t know what your interests are. I want to be a part of your world.”

 

Bambam widens his eyes in wonder – wow… “That’s the nicest thing I’ve ever heard,” he says airily, blinking down at his laptop. No one but Yugyeom has ever initiated a situation in which he gets to talk about fashion design. Jimin is an obvious exception since they’re both in the same field. Bambam feels a surge of warmth spread throughout his body. He’s incredibly touched, yet a little bitter at the same time. He wishes his friends could see this side of Jaebum, or at the very least take his word for it rather than judging the validity of their relationship based on just impersonal facts. It’s never been about the big gestures – it’s about the sweet and kind attentiveness in the simplicity of Jaebum’s honest words. It’s about the look in his eyes that Bambam still blushes from despite months of exposure. It’s about his touch, bold and overwhelming but never crossing the line because Jaebum can somehow manage to be both a wolf and a gentleman at the same time. Bambam doesn’t regret a single thing. He believes in what they have.

 

“Let’s start from the beginning,” Jaebum sweeps an eyelash away from Bambam’s cheek with his thumb.

 

“Okay,” Bambam smiles. He takes a deep breath. “One hot summer night, a baby’s cry could be heard ringing through Bangkok –!”

 

Jaebum rolls his eyes and laughs, turning his head away so food won’t spill.

 

“Hey! Take me seriously!”

 

“I’m trying.”

 

“Good. It’s a serious story,” Bambam nods with a straight face. “Do you know why that baby cried?”

 

“Why?” Jaebum humors him.

 

“Because of the atrocious scrubs the nurse was wearing!”

 

Bambam spends just a little longer being dramatic until he gets to the real point. He’s actually always liked clothes and playing dress-up with his cousins. But it was considered a “girl” thing to do, so that combined with the fact that he remained small for nearly all of his teenage years made him a target for bullying.

 

“It wasn’t too bad though; I was _so_ small and cute that if any boy was caught making fun of me, all the girls would hate him. I’d say it worked out in my favor overall.”

 

His mom brought him to commercial castings due to his outgoing personality. It was nice and all being in the spotlight, but it never gave him real satisfaction. The final year of high school, he took things into his own hands and practiced drawing, begged his mom to let him study fashion.

 

“Why did you choose Korea?”

 

Embarrassed, Bambam scratches his head. “Well…I was kind of a big fan of Rain…but! That’s not the reason why, okay! It was a _big_ plus, but I was totally in a street fashion phase. I considered Japan too. In the end, the ‘bad’ city vibes won me over. Nowadays I lean towards sophisticated looks.”

 

“Wait – you learned everything here?”

 

“I asked for a lot of help,” Bambam admits. His back straightens though – he’s proud of what he has achieved as well. It can be hard to remember, considering the harsh and fast-paced industry, but he’s doing phenomenal for a twenty year old. Bambam moves on to his favorite brands, his role models, and what he’s best at. When Jaebum asks, “what’s the difference” in deceivingly identical textiles, it’s not in the way Changkyun would sometimes say out of boredom, but out of genuine interest. Just that has Bambam incredibly thankful. Bambam tries his best to describe and explain everything without having real examples, making wild hand gestures occasionally.

 

“Oh, and look –!” Bambam starts, but his eyes land on the now cold half-eaten plate of noodles instead. He looks at Jaebum, who looks back at him questioningly. “Hyung, is it not good?”

 

Jaebum glances down at the food with a start, eyes wide. “…I forgot it was there.”

 

Bambam frowns, “What do you mean ‘you forgot?’ You can probably finish the whole thing in three bites, maybe two if you tried.”

 

“You looked so happy talking I felt like I had to give you my full attention.”

 

That’s sweet but – “Stupid hyung, can’t even multi-task,” Bambam tsks.

 

“Hey now,” Jaebum glowers, rising to full broadness.

 

“You don’t scare me anymore!”

 

“Oh?” Jaebum cocks an eyebrow.

 

“Mhm,” Bambam tilts his chin up smugly.

 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

 

“For what –!” Bambam abruptly ends his sentence with a squeal, having been lifted from his seat by a fast swoop behind his knees. He lands flat on his back at an empty section of the island, barely having a second to even look up in confusion. Suddenly, hands attack his sides and underarms, sending him into a helpless fit of laughter and intense squirming. “Hyung!” Bambam shouts between gasps. _Evil_ , Bambam thinks all while tearing up and clutching his stomach. _Pure evil_. He fights back uselessly by kicking his legs, but all that prompts is for Jaebum to grab each leg and pin it down to his midsection with both arms. Bambam’s still laughing residually from the effects of tickling, but a new wave bubbles up again once Jaebum bends down and nuzzles his neck with a grin.

 

Bambam whines, twisting his head back and forth to avoid taking in a mouthful of hair. “Jaebum hyung, no more…”

 

Jaebum lifts his head up. “Give up?”

 

“Mm.”

 

“You’re sorry?”

 

“Of course not,” Bambam huffs and pouts, glaring off at the sink.

 

Jaebum’s eyes turn into slits as he grins. “Fair enough.” He doesn’t let Bambam go, just dives back down to pepper fleeting wet kisses on revealing skin. Bambam half-heartedly wiggles away, sliding up the marble only to be pulled deeper into Jaebum’s cage. Bambam hides a grin behind his hand. In this moment, he’s happy. He’s loved. He’s so spoiled and so lucky. His eyes flutter to a close. _I like you_.

 

Their fingers lace together. _I like you_.

 

Jaebum’s thumb hooks onto the edge of the hoodie and the drag upwards has his belly sinking in, shy from the touch. _I_ really _like you_.

 

Bambam’s tiny frame has allowed for a slip to the right side of his neck, where Jaebum’s eyes train darkly on the curve of his neck and shoulder. Jaebum remembers what that does to Bambam – and without thinking, is magnetically drawn to its bareness, teeth raking on its smooth surface.

 

“ _Ah_ …”

 

Bambam’s eyes fly open, hand automatically slapping his mouth shut. _Shit_. Bambam’s heart rate speeds up erratically, the pounding loud in his ears. Was that him? Did he just…moan? Bambam sucks in a shaky breath, afraid to turn his head and look at Jaebum. Of course, he does it anyway because he’s an idiot and life sucks so how can it get any more embarrassing than it already is – oh.

 

Jaebum seems just as stunned as he is with his eyes wide, pupils dilated, and mouth hanging open. Bambam swallows dryly, and his bobbing Adam’s apple distracts Jaebum for a split second before it flickers right back into his eyes. They both freeze right there, staring at each other unsure of the next move. The shock of the situation has Bambam realizing what kind of provocative position they’re in. He’s literally lying on his back on a kitchen island with Jaebum fit snugly between his legs, who has one hand gripping the back of his knee and the other splayed on his ribcage. His loose shorts have pooled down to the base, leaving nothing to the imagination. Bambam hadn’t even noticed when it all progressed in this direction – and now all the places where Jaebum’s got his hands on him burn.

 

Bambam holds his breath as he watches Jaebum’s eyes travel down his body. He tries not to tremble under his gaze, not to shrink and cower. But it’s so hard – it’s so intense that Bambam can almost feel exactly where he’s looking and half of him wants to pull his hoodie down to cover himself up. It makes him feel so self-conscious and hyperaware of his body – and when Jaebum’s hand moves an inch down to his thigh, that’s all it takes for his leg to twitch and goose bumps to rise. But the other half of him? (Bambam blinks slowly, looking at Jaebum through his lashes, hazy and dark.) The other half of him wonders if he’s _desirable_. How much does Jaebum want him? How much does it take to drive him crazy? What part of him does Jaebum like the most? He’s more desperate to find out than he realizes, choosing to stay put despite his nerves.

 

Jaebum wets his dry lips with a swipe of his tongue, and Bambam follows the movement with a spike of arousal. Jaebum’s jaw is clenched tight, the line of his shoulders wide and tense, chest heaving slowly as if it’s hard to breathe. From this angle, he looks even larger than usual. Bambam swallows thickly, a hard throb panging from his heart and the residual vibrations gathering down at his groin. Jaebum looks so dominant.

 

It’s been a while since he’s let himself think of such dirty thoughts. He’s been busy with other things in his life, and even when his mind did wander off in the dark of the night or in the steamy shower, it’s always been fleeting. Bambam, for all of his bravado, has actually been too embarrassed to let his imagination run too far. He doesn’t think he’d be able to look at Jaebum in the eye afterwards, and Jaebum, too perceptive for his own good, would eventually be able to pry it out of him. For the sake of protecting his fantasies, he has to cut them short before they manifest in the form of Bambam driving his hips into his hand, white pleasure wetting the bed.

 

Having Jaebum on top of him like this does nothing but accelerate those wild thoughts he’s been trying so hard to suppress. Bambam looks at his soft hands and – how many fingers can he fit his first time? Will Jaebum treat him delicately on satin sheets, or will he spread him open shamelessly on all fours? He looks at Jaebum’s chest and knows how sturdy and warm it is – but how would it feel beneath his hands as he steadies himself on it, sinking down on his lap? And then there’s his broad back, a whole canvas for Bambam to paint with his nails.

 

Jaebum slides his hand down Bambam’s stomach, where it stops dangerously close to the band of his shorts. Bambam props up on an elbow to look…and flushes deeply when he realizes he’s worked himself up to hardness all by himself. Jaebum didn’t even do or say anything. He brings a hand up to his face, hoping to hide just a little bit. Bambam takes a deep breath and shakes his leg briefly to signal Jaebum to loosen his grip. He does, so Bambam sits up, hair falling back into place. The hairband must’ve fallen off some time earlier. It’s embarrassing, but Jaebum will understand, right? He’s a healthy young adult after all.

 

Bambam yanks the hoodie over his front, “Uhm…” What does anyone even say in a situation like this?

 

Jaebum brushes the back of his hand on Bambam’s cheek. It feels cool on his skin. “It’s okay,” Jaebum says. That gives Bambam the courage to look up. “Me too.”

 

 _Me too?_ Bambam echoes in his head. His brows scrunch up in confusion for a second, but it all falls into place with a crash when he sees the tent in Jaebum’s slacks.

 

“Oh!” Bambam shouts. He scrambles off the island and lands, thankfully, on his feet. His mind races, and now he’s suddenly a hundred times more stressed than he was before. It’s very…unexpected to say the least. Okay. Great. They’re mutually sexually attracted to each other – not that Bambam had much doubt to begin with. So he’s thought about it, but now that it’s directly right in front of him, Bambam has a serious case of fight or flight. It’s not like he’s got an overly romanticized ideal of what his first time should be like. (Maybe telling Jaebum that it’ll be his first is a good idea.) After all, he’s probably lucky enough to think about doing it with someone who he thinks is special rather than a nameless one-night stand. He’s totally open to having sex in the future – just…not _right now_.

 

“I’m not ready,” Bambam admits worriedly. He feels like he’s disappointing Jaebum somehow. Surely it must be frustrating to have to go slow, especially with his age and experience. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Sorry? What’s there to be sorry for?”

 

“I don’t know,” he mumbles.

 

“Do you think I’m that shallow?” There’s no bite, just a tinge of sadness.

 

“No – I don’t mean that.”

 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to put you in that position.”

 

Bambam raises an eyebrow at that. They both share a smile.

 

“You know what I mean,” Jaebum snorts.

 

“I know.” Bambam smiles softly. Jaebum holds both of his hands.

 

“And for the record, I’ll wait as long as you need. We’ve got a long time.” He grazes Bambam’s knuckles with his lips, all while maintaining eye contact.

 

“Thank you,” Bambam melts. “Hyung, you’re so good to me.”

 

“Of course.” Jaebum beams proudly. “Just who is your man?”

 

“You,” Bambam grins and leans in to press a kiss on his cheek. As he moves back though, Jaebum turns his head to the other side, protruding his face. Bambam laughs at him, taking in the obvious signal from Jaebum’s eyes that he should kiss the other cheek too. Bambam smacks his arm, but complies happily.

 

-

 

(“Baby, weren’t you going to show me something earlier?”

 

“Hm? Oh, right.”

 

Bambam goes to grab his old sketchbook, flipping to the middle.

 

“I made all these after I met you.” It’s the designs he’s created inspired by Jaebum a week or so after the first meeting at the club. Jaebum takes his time looking at all of them. He thoroughly inspects each sketch – Bambam’s a little surprised. He expected Jaebum to take five minutes tops to flip through them.

 

“Wow…” Jaebum breathes out in amazement when he’s done.

 

“Right?” Bambam elbows his hyung’s side. “It got me my job!”

 

“They’re amazing! I can’t wait to wear your clothes someday.”

 

Bambam’s smile falls, stunned. He looks up glitteringly at Jaebum. “…You think I can do it, someday?”

 

“Of course.” He says it surely and with finality. He says it with more conviction than Bambam has ever allowed himself to dream of.)

 

-

 

Bambam goes home on Saturday. He figures it’s been enough time for everyone to cool off and think things through because he’s definitely had enough time to do so. Besides, the few days that he was able to stay with Jaebum had only strengthened his confidence in their relationship even more. It seems ridiculous now that they could be anything else but healthy and good for each other. Well, that, and Bambam’s running out of underwear to change into. He didn’t actually think things through when he left with just his backpack and anything else his arms could carry. Some of his assignments are also left on his desk.

 

Jaebum offered him a ride back, but Bambam shook his head. Jaebum was already running late, apparently having forgotten to set his alarm. Bambam does walk out the door at the same time though, just to give the semblance of leaving together. Nora even lets him pet her before he leaves.

 

Surprisingly, Yugyeom isn’t home. But then again, they haven’t been talking, so it’s only natural that Yugyeom would have schedules that Bambam’s unaware of. Hell, Bambam should be the one at fault here, being the one whose schedules _no one_ has been aware of. He’ll apologize later. But for now – Bambam drops everything on the floor and throws himself on the bed – he’s home.

 

**me**

[Sat, Feb. 18, 9:05AM]

home!

 

**Jaebum hyung**

[Sat, Feb. 18, 9:10AM]

^^

 

“I didn’t miss you at all, you piece of shit,” Bambam says fondly to his greatest masterpiece, exactly how he left it. The chiffon is still pinned down on the grid paper as it should, and the chalk still lines where he plans to cut the pieces. It’s going to be a beautiful red evening gown – if it goes as planned. He’s done all of the embroidery and jeweling by hand already for the past few weeks, so now all it comes down to is bringing it to one of the sewing facilities open at university. Bambam sighs. To another day of fixing broken thread and breathing in lint it is.

    

Bambam spends most of the day hunched over his work aside from the occasional restroom break. He’s mostly caught up to the rest of his peers by now, but he’s not satisfied with reaching the minimum – he wants to be ahead of the game. He knows that the mock evaluation doesn’t require completed projects; it’s a full-scale show, after all, mainly targeted towards graduating students who want to capture the attention of big names. Even without winning, the publicity is worth the effort. People are bound to make last minute changes and go through at least three different prototypes of the same show-stopping design. Bambam’s no exception. He’s putting everything into this.

 

Hours later, Yugyeom comes home with no expectations, already tired and consistently disappointed by the sight of an empty house every time he hopes Bambam will be back. But this time, the lights are already on, peeking out of the front window. And when he unlocks the door, the strong scent of kimchi stew hits straight up his nose, familiar and enticing. Yugyeom stands frozen at the door, unbelieving. Bambam has his back towards him, stirring the pot with a wooden spatula and turning off the heat with a click. He turns around, lifting the pot up by its handle to place on a silicone mat.

 

Bambam looks up and shrieks, “It’s a hot pot, are you crazy?!”

 

Yugyeom skids to a stop, barely missing Bambam, who twists his body the opposite way to save his meal. Bambam quickly puts it down before an accident can happen.

 

“ _Bambam_!” Yugyeom wails like a baby, throwing his big frame onto Bambam without warning. But Bambam’s used to it, so he catches Yugyeom quite nicely, even if it looks awkward that he has to tiptoe just to match Yugyeom’s need for burrowing into his shoulder. The sink behind him gives great stability though. “I’m sorry, I’m horrible – I’m really, really, sorry –!”

 

“Hey, stop, I’m not mad. You’re not horrible, Gyeom,” Bambam pats his back.

 

“But I hurt you…”

 

Bambam sighs, “You were just looking out for me. I get it.” Yugyeom looks at him with the saddest, puffed up face. “Who looks like the puppy _now_?” Bambam smiles. “C’mon, I made enough for two. Let’s eat.”

 

“How –!” Yugyeom stares angrily at Bambam through watery eyes. “How can you just forgive me like that? Be angry with me!”

 

Bambam laughs – “You’re angry that _I’m_ not angry?”

 

“It’s not fair!”

 

“What’s the point of me sulking over it all the time?”

 

“No…we _hurt_ you, Bamie. _I_ hurt you. I didn’t stand up for you when I should have. If it’s anyone, it should have been me! I’ve seen how over the moon you are with Jaebum and I shouldn’t have let anyone else make me doubt what makes you happy. I failed you when you needed me, and I promised you I’d support you no matter what.”

 

Bambam stares at him throughout his speech, tearing up as well. He tilts his head back, pulling all of his emotions inward. “You didn’t fail me, Yugyeom-ah. You simply tried to protect me in a different way. I’m not dumb. I know what the relationship looks like from afar. It’s partially my fault as well – it’s because I knew it looked bad that I was afraid to tell you guys until it was too late. I never really explained myself or even tried to convince you that Jaebum hyung is sincere with me. I avoided talking about him when I was dying to; I kept him a secret when all I wanted to do was show him off. You know me. When do I ever shut up, right?” Bambam throws in a dry laugh. “I probably deserved to have it blow up in my face like that.”

 

“ _No_. You didn’t deserve any of that.” Yugyeom closes his eyes in painful recollection. “I knew we fucked up when we made you cry. You _never_ cry in front of us.”

 

Bambam reaches up to stroke his hair as Yugyeom rubs his eyes. He coos mockingly, “You giant teddy bear. You little softie. You _big baby_ –!”

 

“Oh _shut up_ ,” Yugyeom pushes him, a smile blooming on his face despite his red eyes.

 

“You can totally make it up to me, if you want.”

 

“How?” Yugyeom asks too fast.

 

“Take me to that piercing parlor you always go to. Let me crush your hand while I tolerate the pain.”

 

Yugyeom blinks at him owlishly, and then his face morphs into frustration. “Bam, that’s not making it up to you – I would’ve done that on any normal day. Think of something else.”

 

“Nope.” Bambam scoops two bowls of rice and sits down for the meal. “That’s it. That’s the deal.”

 

“No stop it, what do you want? Should I buy your meals for a whole week?”

 

Bambam starts shoving his face with food. “Nope.”

 

“Two weeks?”

 

“Yugyeom, just eat.”

 

Yugyeom takes a sip of the soup and – it’s slightly sweet, not as spicy. Yugyeom thrashes in his seat. “Bambam you’re so unfair!” How could he do this to him? How could he just come home, forgive Yugyeom, _and_ make a meal that’s catered to his childish taste buds?

 

Bambam shrugs smugly, watching him squirm. “What? You always complain that I eat too spicy.”

 

“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? You’re being nice to make me feel guilty!”

 

“It’s not that deep, Gyeom.” Bambam shoves a spoonful of rice into Yugyeom’s mouth to shut him up. “You’re doing the dishes though.”

 

Later, when they’ve cleaned up and bickered some more, Yugyeom wraps Bambam up in a tight hug that kind of hurts both of them but he’s too stubborn to let go.

 

“Sorry.”

 

“Again?” Bambam groans. Yugyeom squeezes him out of spite, cutting off his whining with a yelp.

 

“I just don’t feel like it’s enough.”

 

Bambam thinks about how easy it was for them to fall back into place, how even through the fight they can still sit down together and smile at the end of it. Bambam never has to worry about Yugyeom, because Yugyeom is his best friend. Whatever it is that rips them apart, they’ll find a way to come back together again. That’s just how the world works: Yugyeom and Bambam; Bambam and Yugyeom. How could he ever ask for more?

 

“This is enough. You’re more than enough.” Bambam can already feel a large portion of weight lifting off from his back. After a moment of silence, “…Do you want to meet him? Properly?”

 

Yugyeom’s about to agree enthusiastically, until a dark repressed memory of a particular morning suddenly resurfaces in his mind, causing his face to contort in misery. The color drains from his face, only Bambam can’t see any of that due to the hug that they’re in. He takes the shaking from Yugyeom’s body as an agreement and, relieved, says, “Great. Two of my favorite people can finally be in one place with me.”

 

Yugyeom gulps, sweating profusely.

 

-

 

(“I CAN’T DO IT.” Yugyeom bursts into the room just as Bambam was about to fall asleep.

 

“What the hell,” Bambam covers his head with his pillow.

 

“I CAN’T MEET JAEBUM.”

 

“Lower your volume, will you?!”

 

“Don’t you remember that One Time?!”

 

“What ‘one time’?”

 

“ _That time_.”

 

“Gyeom.”

 

“ _That one time I whipped out my dick._ You can’t expect me to – to look at him in the eye after that!”

 

Bambam shoves his face deeper into the pillow. He just really wants to sleep now, goddamn it. “Yugyeom, it happens, okay? It’ll be fine. It’s not like you’re meeting him tomorrow. I have to ask him first.”

 

“Really.” Yugyeom crosses his arms. “Does it really _just happen_? Is it normal to just whip it out in front of your best friend’s man?! I’m not meeting him!”

 

“Good night.”

 

“You hear me? I’m not meeting him!”

 

“ _Good. Night._ ”)

 

-

 

Man, when Jaebum comes and causes a commotion, he _causes a commotion_. It’s literally been weeks since that flashy entrance at school, but Bambam is still getting stares all around as he passes down the hall, as he enters a room, hell, as he raises his hand to ask the professor a question. He didn’t think anything of it at first – of course people would talk about a billionaire coming to school, and of course they would be interested in seeing the boy said billionaire picked up. Bambam’s seen the pictures on social media. And since he’s already somewhat well known on campus, it wasn’t hard to tag him and stir rumors. Bambam never got the time to read what was actually being said though, always too busy running back and forth from campus to the office, from the office to the studio, then from the studio straight to bed. But considering how the stares still haven’t died down, Bambam is beginning to get curious.

 

He mentions it briefly to Yugyeom, whose hand tightens on the wheel but otherwise shows no other sign of expression. “Don’t worry about it,” he says, “you know school is so boring people need something to talk about.”

 

Bambam nods skeptically. He would ask the others for a better answer…but he hasn’t talked to them yet. He’s not too sure where he stands with them right now.

 

Bambam gets through class just fine. It’s not like anyone is bothering him. The only hard part of the day is having to drag a gigantic garment bag around, trying to fit it within his personal space but also avoiding folding it too much or it’ll crease the dress inside. It’s the day of the evaluation, which Bambam has been anticipating and agonizing over since forever. He’s even called work to ask for a day off, picking up a shift on Sunday, just so he won’t miss the event or stress himself out. He arrives early, but it’s clear that some have arrived even earlier. There’s a least ten people waiting in their seats and another ten in the middle of setting up. Bambam quietly slides through the aisles of mannequins and sets his equipment down in his designated area. He carefully takes the royal red dress out and zips it on the mannequin. It’s a little too big, so he has to pin it down around the waist in the back. The dress itself should be fine though – no real human would be able to fit what’s on display. What pisses him off is how dirty the floor is. It’s making the train catch onto the dirt. It’s a delicate material, and Bambam really doesn’t want to hand-wash it because he can’t afford dry-cleaning.

 

He doesn’t have much to show for now. A lot of people here are working in teams, which obviously makes the production much faster. Bambam would normally ask Jimin to enter the competition with him, but Jimin’s decided to take her own direction this year, which he completely understands. It can be frustrating to have to compromise when you’ve already envisioned the final picture. Still, the loss of her pattern-making and meticulous sewing skills was a hard blow. He forgot how difficult it was to do everything alone.

 

Ten minutes later, as Bambam is making final touch-ups on his pieces, Jimin strolls in with arms full of garment bags stacked dangerously on top of each other, the top of her head barely peeking out. Someone has to close the door for her as she stumbles to her own booth, in the same row as Bambam, but on the opposite end. Bambam wants to go over there and help her, but doesn’t know if he should. He must’ve been staring for a long time, because it’s enough for her to suddenly look up and catch his eyes. He whips his head the other way…then his shoulders droop. It shouldn’t be like this, being afraid to talk to each other or to even look at each other. If they weren’t in this weird and awkward silent treatment, he’s sure that their voices would have filled up the entire room by now. Bambam’s not really one to sit still and Jimin, ironically in her efforts to shut him up, tends to forget how loud her voice actually is. And yet here they are, stealing glances in each other’s direction and picking at their nails while waiting. They don’t know anyone else here.

 

At exactly three, the head of the fashion department enters alongside the editor of W Korea magazine, one of the honorary judges for the competition. Everyone bows in unison and they listen to the obligatory speech about how they look forward to everyone’s work and how the students are the future of fashion. They begin the critique from the front row. Bambam is in the middle, but depending on how much time they spend on each competitor, it might take a while before they get to him.

 

There’s a low buzz as everyone starts sizing up the competition, glancing around and eavesdropping when they can. Most people are going for business chic looks, spiced up with asymmetric cuts and a pop of color. It’s the kind of style most likely to offer jobs now in Korea. Well – Bambam looks around – at least he’s not the only one with a collection of gowns.

 

After an hour, it’s finally his turn. Bambam swallows nervously as they silently inspect his designs, first going through his artwork and then lifting up each layer of his dress inside-out to finger at the seams with eagle eyes. The way it works around here is strange – the less comments there are, the better one is doing. Talking seems to be only reserved for constructive criticism, or sometimes just outright disapproval. So it should be good that neither the head of the department or the editor are saying anything, but it still makes him anxious to get nothing at all.

 

“Crystals?”

 

Bambam jumps, surprised by the sudden question. “Uh – Swarovski, 2mm.” Honestly, he doesn’t know how in the world he managed to salvage them from an old wedding dress found in a thrift shop miles away from Seoul. But hey, he was desperate, and he did it.

 

“Lace?”

 

“3D, some sections embellished personally by hand.”

 

Their eyebrows raise, then they nod subtly. Bambam wants to be relieved by even that small sign of approval, but he can’t afford to be too hopeful. He barely breathes for the next few minutes, picking at his fingers until they finally close his portfolio.

 

“We look forward to your final collection.”

 

“Thank you!” Bambam bows deeply. Those around him give him a small round of applause. Bambam turns around to thank each of them as well, exchanging small, polite smiles. He breathes out in relief. Okay. He’s in a good direction. He’ll just need to finish making the rest of his designs by the time of the show. The moment the judges walk away, he starts hearing a loud conversation from the row in front of him.

 

“…of course he’ll do well.”

 

Two girls are “whispering,” but it’s clear that they want everyone to hear them. People start shifting uncomfortably, not knowing what to do when the words become malicious.

 

“Just look at the expensive materials he’s using…isn’t that unfair?”

 

Astonished, Bambam looks down at his dress. Expensive? Maybe it looks the part, but the entire thing is made from scavenging local discount shops.

 

“I bet his _sugar daddy_ sponsors his entire career.”

 

Bambam whips his head in their direction, eyes wide. The judges pause in their tracks for a second, but otherwise continue to professionally counsel the remaining participants. Having just finished with Jimin, Jimin scowls at them from afar.

 

“How _shameless_.”

 

“Is it even his own work?”

 

Bambam bites the inside of his cheek. Ah. _That_ must be what the rumors have been about.

 

“Shhh!” Another girl shuts them up, but it’s too late. The damage has already been done. Bambam catches them smirking at him right before everyone faces the front for the closure of the mock evaluation. He rolls his eyes behind his lids. He doesn’t have time to be dealing with this shit. His hard work will speak for itself.

 

Everyone starts packing up after the judges leave with well wishes. Teams of designers discuss their respective criticisms amongst themselves and are already talking about making changes while peeling the garments off the mannequins. Bambam places his belongings neatly into his bag, making a final check to see if he’s missing anything. Considering it done, he looks over to where Jimin is.

 

She’s gone.

 

Disappointed, Bambam sighs and leaves the room. It feels like he’s missed his chance to make amends with Jimin (if it ends up well). It’d be hard to catch her alone otherwise; she’s always surrounded by her many girl friends during passing period and will, of course, be with the group for lunch. Bambam thinks it’ll be much easier to explain his feelings one-on-one, where he can find out what exactly made them object to his relationship in the first place. He doesn’t think it’s their place to judge – but he still wants to hear it. Plus, he can run away if the conversation goes haywire.

 

Bambam turns a corner of the hallway.

 

“HEY!”

 

Bambam almost drops to the floor in fear – he can recognize that angry shrill anywhere. He looks further ahead of him, and lo and behold.

 

“HEY YOU!” Jimin stomps her way over to the previous two girls, who stare at her in shock. Jimin’s little heels click and echo in the empty hallway, the light making her shadow three times bigger than she is. How Jimin manages to be so intimidating while being a whole head shorter than these girls is beyond Bambam.

 

“Stop right there! How dare you attempt to slander a fellow contestant!”

 

They furrow their eyebrows in anger. “What –!”

 

“Shut up, I’m talking!” Jimin bites back. “How dare you use such dirty, under-handed tricks to drag somebody else down like that! Have you lost your mind?”

 

“He –!”

 

“How _dare_ you degrade an _artist’s_ work?! I’ll have you know – Bambam is one of the most talented, hard-working designers I know! He has spent dozens – hundreds – of all-nighters just to work and study fashion! Because it’s his dream! And his passion! He’s an inspiration!”

 

Bambam’s mouth opens agape.

 

“Bambam’s work got praised because he’s genuine and original. He knows how to pick a concept, do the proper research, and put his own spin on it! Because he’s Bambam!” Jimin puffs up angrily, blowing her bangs upward with her breath. “You have no right to sabotage honest work like that when all you do is copy and paste the newest trend. I see you, Dolce & Gabbana SS15. If you’re going to plagiarize, then at least make it less obvious!”

 

Bambam is completely stunned as they walk away from the scene, leaving only Jimin to shout at their retreat.

 

“Jealous uglies,” she spits, hands on her hips. Bambam comes up behind her and taps her on the shoulder. They both shriek as Bambam barely ducks in time to miss Jimin’s swing of the fist. “Bambam?!”

 

“It’s me, don’t kill me!” Bambam protects himself with his arms.

 

Jimin’s face heats up – “Did you hear all of that?”

 

“Well…”

 

“Why’d you follow me? You’re not supposed to hear that!”

 

“I didn’t know you were going this way! And it’s not like you were being quiet.”

 

“…Point taken.”

“So…you’re heading to the parking lot?” Bambam points ahead of them.

 

“Yeah.”

 

Jimin and Bambam walk together, falling into step. Bambam helps her with some of her load, grabbing a few bags she had left on the floor in order to focus on her smack down. The corner of his mouth curls up a little, noticing how he had automatically slowed down. Jimin always yells at the boys for walking too fast, how their one step equals to her two strides. It takes the entire walk for them to say something to each other though, stopping right in front of Jimin’s beetle. They place her belongings inside her trunk, closing it with a thump and brushing the dirt off their hands.

 

“Thanks.”

 

“No problem…hey…thanks for standing up for me. You didn’t have to. I was just going to ignore them.”

 

“You know I can’t leave bullshit like that alone,” Jimin clicks her tongue, face turning sour at the thought of their words. “No one can come after you without going through me first.”

 

Bambam smiles at her, then stifles a laugh at the thought of maybe sending Jimin to go pick a fight with Jinyoung. Boy, if only she heard the things he was called earlier. Bambam figures it won’t be pretty. Too bad that’s a fight he wants to handle personally. “Thanks. Your collection’s coming out well,” he compliments. Bambam really liked the floral accents. It’s funny how even though they’re not working together, they still managed to come up with similar themes. Jimin’s designs are more practical though, made for everyday wear rather than Bambam’s full-blown evening dresses.

 

“Yours is beautiful. It looks like something straight out of the runway in Milan. Have you started looking for models yet?”

 

Bambam shakes his head. “I can’t, I don’t have enough of my dresses finished to start. I’m barely halfway through the second one. I think I was too ambitious.”

 

“Quality versus quantity!”

 

“I should go, Yugyeom’s waiting at the other parking lot.”

 

“Wait – uhm…” Jimin folds her hands together, trailing off. Bambam patiently waits for her to continue speaking. “Sorry for…for what I said…” She takes a glance at him, and then looks down. “I was mean.”

 

“You worried about me.”

 

“Yeah, but I didn’t try to understand you. I heard everything you said but I guess it just didn’t hit me how much it meant to you until…you know…I mean…I’ll be honest…I’m still really hesitant about you and him because I haven’t seen you two together with my own eyes yet but I’ll definitely try to understand. You’re mature enough to do whatever you want. I’ll be better at minding my own business.”

 

Bambam raises an eyebrow, “That was minding your own business, just now?”

 

“That’s different,” she huffs. “That’s defending your integrity! What kind of friend am I if I just stand back and let people trash you around? Only _I_ can make fun of you!”

 

Bambam laughs and spreads his arms, to which she runs into immediately. “Thank you, Jimin. I appreciate it.” After a few moments of squeezing each other, Jimin pushes him away.

 

“Alright, that’s enough sap for a month. Go find Yugyeom, loser.”

 

-

 

After making amends and hugging Bambam to death over pizza, it actually takes a long time for the group to warm up to meeting Jaebum. Now that they know who he is (and probably have stalked him online), Jaebum seems like such an imposing, mature figure…how are a group of college kids supposed to talk to a widely successful heir to a multibillion-won financial group? Do they talk about taxes? Stocks?

 

“I don’t even know _how_ to do my taxes,” Changkyun fists his hair.

 

Bambam squints at them. “Do you think I talk about _taxes_ when I’m with Jaebum hyung?”

 

“Well how are we supposed to know?” Changkyun splutters, looking around for agreement. The table, excluding Bambam, actually nods, sharing the same sentiment. “Are we supposed to think that you actually send him memes and water bottle flipping videos?”

 

Bambam crosses his arms. “What’s wrong with that? They’re cool.”

 

“ _You send him water bottle flipping videos?!_ ” Minghao looks like he needs to rethink his life. And his choice of friends.

 

“He actually does them with me.”

 

“He –!” Minghao rubs his temples in agony. Even Yugyeom looks done. Jimin – well, Jimin has always been done with Bambam so her deadpan face isn’t anything new.

 

“Watch, before you know it, all of you are going to flip them too and guess who will have the last laugh.”

 

“I can’t believe there’s someone out there perfect for him.”

 

Discussion and all, they end up being too scared to meet Jaebum all at once. Jungkook claims that it’s “too much,” and that Jaebum might look like he’s out babysitting a bunch of kids. (“Hey! Before you knew how old he was, you all thought he was within our age range!” “That was before, now is now.”) So they’ve decided to split up into groups of two to meet him on separate days. Bambam simply sits back while they fuss over what to do, whipping out his phone to play with instead. Yugyeom sighs inwardly. At least he won’t have to meet with Jaebum alone. That would be awkward.

 

-

 

As fate would have it, here Yugyeom is, all alone. With Jaebum. Sitting up and proper in his own damn house.

 

“Could you get the door for me?” Bambam said.

 

“Okay,” Yugyeom said.

 

He opened to the door to razor sharp eyes and would have wobbled over if his hand weren’t on the door. “Why is god so cruel to me,” Yugyeom _almost_ said.

 

“How are you?” Jaebum asks.

 

“Good, sir – I mean Mr. Im – I mean Jaebum-ssi.” Yugyeom wants to punch himself in the face.

 

Jaebum looks at him amusedly, “You can talk comfortably. Just call me hyung.”

 

“Sure,” Yugyeom nods, but his eyes are still determinedly fixed on the coffee table. They sit in silence, eventually pulling out their phones when it becomes unbearable. Yugyeom dares to take one glance at Jaebum and screams in his head. Jaebum is dressed up from head to toe in money, looking straight out of the dramas he loves to watch. His eyebrow twitches when he sees the contrast of his sweatpants and his grandma’s sweater with Jaebum’s attire from the TV’s reflection.

 

**Bamie~**

[Sat, Mar. 4, 6:02PM]

GET IN HERE

 

 _Oh thank Jesus lord_ – “Uhm. I’ll be right back. Make yourself comfortable!”

 

Yugyeom whizzes through the hallway lightning speed, ending right into Bambam’s room. “How could you leave me out there like that I thought we talked about this!” He whines right after closing the door.

 

But Bambam pays him no mind, simply turning around from the mirror and asking, “How do I look?”

 

Yugyeom stares at him for a hot minute before making the motion to sweep his eyes up and down Bambam. “…Isn’t that the same outfit as half an hour ago?”

 

Bambam throws the closest thing next to him at Yugyeom, which happens to be an old pair of boxers. Yugyeom squeaks as he avoids the offending projectile. “It’s _not_. The choker is different.” Bambam plays with the pendent hanging from his neck, bringing it to Yugyeom’s attention. So maybe it is different, but it doesn’t justify Yugyeom having to invite Jaebum in and “distract him” while Bambam gets ready. To Yugyeom, who doesn’t deserve to suffer like this, waiting ten long minutes just to see a small change of a necklace seems ridiculous.

 

“You look great – just get out there!”

 

“You think he’ll like my new piercings?”

 

Yugyeom snorts, “He better, or I’ll have a bruise on my hand for nothing.”

 

“It didn’t bruise, did it?” Bambam frowns, grabbing his hand.

 

Yugyeom softens. “No, I was just kidding.”

 

Bambam finally decides to head out for his date with Jaebum, and Yugyeom figures it won’t be so bad to see them off. The moment they step out, Jaebum rises from his seat on the couch. They take quick strides towards each other, as if they can’t wait another moment. They brighten up with big smiles and Jaebum suddenly looks like the most harmless guy-next-door ever, a stark contrast from his standoffish aura. Yugyeom tilts his head at that. Huh.

 

“What’s this?” Jaebum teases, gently touching the back of Bambam’s ear. His other hand is on Bambam’s waist whereas both of Bambam’s are on his chest. Yugyeom blinks at them from afar – they fell into place so naturally and quickly that Yugyeom couldn’t recall when they got so close.

 

“Yugyeommie took me to get them a few days ago. Do you like them?” They’re simple hoops, but they match him well.

 

Jaebum hums and nods. “Yeah. Does it hurt?”

 

“Just a little.”

 

“You’re so beautiful, Bam.”

 

And Yugyeom watches his best friend bloom like a flower under the undivided attention and affection. They kiss, with such tenderness that has even Yugyeom sighing on the side, watching them with a fond smile. It’s a nice and happy moment. He lets them take their time, waiting for his cue to bid them goodbye.

 

So he waits.

 

And waits.

 

The second he sees tongue, a cold jolt runs up his spine and his nose scrunches up in disgust.

 

“Okay, EW, _gross_ , stop making out and go on your date already!”

 

-

 

Surprisingly, it’s been a quiet month. Bambam’s not any less busy, of course, but for some reason it’s not as eventful as he thought it would be. For one, he thought that Jinyoung would have gone on a witch-hunt for him by now, seeing as he hasn’t broken up with Jaebum (and won’t). He’s noticed that Jaebum hasn’t mentioned him in front of Bambam lately either, but he doesn’t want to bring it up, afraid of what could happen. He could just be paranoid. And two, the office has been slow. The head designer has been out of the country for a week and a half, so communication has been a pain to work. Nowadays, Bambam finds himself answering forwarded calls more than anything, repeating the same message over and over. There’s probably more entertainment in making coffee for the entire building.

 

But then one day at the end of March, Hani walks over to his station and flashes an apologetic smile.

 

“Oh! What’s up, noona?”

 

“Hey, Bambam. How’s work going?”

 

Bambam pulls on an obviously strained smile and gives her a thumbs-up. “Great! I love responding to angry clients.”

 

She giggles, “Oh, you poor thing. They always give you the worst jobs during low times.”

 

He shrugs, flashing a real smile at her. “I don’t really mind. Don’t tell anyone, but it lets me do my homework.”

 

“I came to ask you for a favor.”

 

“What is it?”

 

“Can you head down to this address?” She hands over a business card with the address scribbled on the back. “I know you don’t have a car so I’ll handle the taxi fare. It’s a studio where they’re shooting for Harper’s Bazaar today and they’ve requested some of our clothes for styling. They’ve also asked for a helping hand with experience. Someone else was lined for the job – unfortunately they can’t make it. Normally I would fill in, but Nana and I have another affair to attend, so it’d be great if you could go instead. It might run late, so we’ll definitely pay you overtime.”

 

“Sure, I’ll go.”

 

“Fantastic!” She bounces and does a little clap. “Thank you.”

 

So Bambam goes over to the company’s closet and picks up the box labeled “HB-J” and heads out. It takes an hour to get to the studio due to traffic on the freeway, but he does make it there in one piece. That’s an accomplishment in itself. Bambam enters the studio and picks up a staff lanyard, blindly finding his way to the dressing room. He almost breaks his back bowing to everyone that passes by – it’s a lot more people working here than he anticipated.

 

He eventually finds the right room and sets the box down. There are a few models on stand-by, and one is getting his make-up done. Bambam greets all of them and shakes hands with the stylist of the shoot. He opens the box and begins hanging up the clothes. He eyes the clothes available from other brands as well, and based on the selection, it must be one of those funky editorial shoots. It’s personally not his style, but a job is a job.

 

“These are the concept photos and the sets.”

 

Oh – Bambam’s eyebrows rise. It’s a lot more colorful than he anticipated.

 

“The May issue is going to be a summery and sexy concept –!” Squealing outside the door interrupts the stylist. She smiles sheepishly, “Sorry, there’s a celebrity here today. Everyone’s quite excited. He’s going to be on our front cover.”

 

A celebrity? Bambam mentally fist pumps. Nice. He doesn’t care who it is; his friends are going to be _so_ jealous. He’s about to ask who it is when she starts speaking again. Bambam misses his chance, so he shrugs and listens to her explanation of the concept instead. After getting a clear idea, they work together to devise the dress changes and quickly hand them to the models to wear. Once agreeing on what the main outfits should be, Bambam is sent off to doll up the celebrity, who should be done with his makeup by now.

 

Bambam knocks on the door, waiting for the muffled “Come in” before entering.

 

The makeup artist is finishing up by dusting a loose finishing powder – Bambam can tell by the cloud of white made visible by the vanity circle lights. Seeming satisfied with his work, the makeup artist steps aside –

 

– revealing Jackson.

 

Jackson looks at Bambam through the mirror and jumps onto his feet.

 

“Hi! It’s a pleasure to be working with you!” He bows, snapping right back up with a grin on his face.

 

Shocked, Bambam can only stare at him with his mouth open.

 

_Holy shit._

 

When the silence runs too long, Bambam snaps out of it and physically has to put his chin back together, bowing deeply. “It’s a pleasure to be working with you as well!” Jackson doesn’t seem to remember him. He was probably too drunk to remember.

 

Bambam turns away, his eye nervously twitching as he hears the sound of Jackson stripping behind a curtain. He comes out with a puppy-like grin, all eager eyes. Jackson starts chatting with him immediately as he bends over to fix his clothes with safety pins.

 

“Where are you from?”

 

“…Thailand,” Bambam speaks through a pin as he makes a pleated fold on the back of Jackson’s shirt. He holds it in place and sticks the pin in. Who the hell made the order for larges when it fits like a potato sack on Jackson?

 

“Cool! I visited Bangkok one time for a fan meeting – it’s a very beautiful place.”

 

He can’t help but feel a surge of pride ripping through him. “Right? One of the most beautiful places on earth, for sure. The beaches there are so healing for the soul.”

 

“Oh definitely!” Jackson yips. He brings his arms up when Bambam taps his biceps. “I’d love to go there again, for vacation.”

 

Bambam smiles, eyes a little distant. He’d like that, too.

 

“Hey…” Jackson says thoughtfully as Bambam pats his arm again, signaling he’s done. “Not to alarm you or anything, but have we met before?”

 

Bambam chokes on nothing. “UH,” he says too loudly.

 

“So we have!” Jackson suddenly leans his torso back, squinting at Bambam and swaying himself back and forth. Bambam looks at him funny, too bewildered to laugh. “Ah!” Jackson snaps his fingers. “That one party! In…in…in Hong Kong!” He looks at Bambam from head to toe. “Yes, that must be it.”

 

When Bambam follows Jackson’s line of sight, it rests on his left wrist, where Jaebum’s bracelet is. He stares tiredly at it. How come everyone and their mom can recognize it? But more importantly – Bambam swallows thickly at the fact that Jackson does, in fact, remember that night. Honestly, he’s completely forgotten that it ever happened, because it was more likely than not only going to end up as a funny story for the future. Now that he’s reminded of it, he feels sorry again for what happened to Jackson after the incident. The internet was really brutal on his scandal, and his career must have suffered.

 

“What a small world,” Jackson comments in wonder. “Who knew I would meet you again here?”

 

“I saw the news afterwards – I’m really sorry to have caused you trouble. It must’ve been hard.”

 

“It was, but I actually have to thank you.” Jackson’s wide grin simmers down to a smaller one, his eyes serious and sharp. “My manager took me to the hospital after leaving the party. Someone slipped something in my drink.”

 

Bambam’s eyes widen in horror. “ _What?_ ”

 

“Yeah. It could’ve taken a worse turn if it wasn’t you who found me. I’ll take the public defacing any day over the danger that I was in.”

 

“Did you catch who did it?” Bambam gasps. “That’s a serious crime! At such a high-profile party no less.”

 

“No,” Jackson answers grimly. “My management decided it was too risky to pursue an investigation and lawsuit. Not when I had the scandal and a movie to film.”

 

Bambam looks at him glumly.

 

“Which!” Jackson grins again, a complete switch from a second earlier. Bambam blinks in shock at the sudden change. It’s a lot to take in. “You should totally watch. It’s coming out this fall, November!”

 

He snorts at the shameless promotion, smiling. “Okay, I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

“No, you have to promise to watch it.”

 

“I promise,” he rolls his eyes.

 

“Hey! I saw that!” Jackson frowns exaggeratedly. “Do you not like me? Is this personal? Why won’t you go see my movie?” He clutches his heart painfully, making hissing sounds.

 

“No!” Bambam laughs at his ridiculousness and his sulking. “I’ll go watch it, I swear.”

 

One of the staff knocks on their door, calling Jackson for the photo shoot. Jackson salutes him jokingly on his way out, yelling something about promising to make these clothes look good. Bambam waves back, but, whatever. It’s not even pushBUTTON on his back right now. While Jackson goes to make bedroom eyes to the camera, Bambam heads to the other rooms to fit the models. He talks to Jackson briefly some more during the breaks, finding it extremely easy to get the conversation going. Jackson’s funny and personable yet focused and professional in front of the camera; Bambam wouldn’t be surprised if the whole studio became a fan after this. He’s dripping with charm and charisma. Bambam can’t imagine a single soul hating the sun, and that makes it seem it even more unfair that there _are_ antis out there whose sole purpose is to bring him down.

 

As Hani warned, the photo shoot does run late, and before he knows it, it’s nearly midnight. It’s hard to tell the passing of time in the studio since it’s completely concealed from the outside world. Bambam allows himself a big long stretch after the director calls it a day and gives everyone a round of applause for a job well done. It’s another round of bowing to all the staff, and Bambam thinks his back will really break this time.

 

Bambam yawns widely and unabashedly outside, waiting by the curb for the taxi to come. His breath wisps in the air, ascending into the night sky. He crosses his arms, tucking his hands into his armpits and hugging his body. It’s cold.

 

“Hey! Bambam!”

 

He hears a voice calling for him, but before he can even face the direction of its owner, he feels a heavy weight tackling his back and almost causing him to topple over. His skinny little legs weren’t meant for this. Bambam twists his head to see whom it is and is greeted by an unnecessarily close Jackson, smiling at him with his arrow mouth and bright eyes.

 

“Hey!” He says again, only now it’s way too close to his ear. “Are you heading home already?”

 

“Well, the shoot is over, isn’t it?”

 

“Yeah, but aren’t you hungry? I am! Let’s go get some jajangmyeon.”

 

Bambam splutters, tripping over his own feet as Jackson drags him to his manager’s van. In a second, he’s being introduced as Jackson’s “new friend” as Bambam and the manager look at each other tiredly. As if sharing the same thoughts, they just sigh as Jackson insists on taking Bambam along for a meal.

 

“Wait – you’re that boy, aren’t you?”

 

“He is,” Jackson answers for Bambam. “I want to thank him. I hope you don’t mind something cheap though. But I haven’t had jajangmyeon in Korea for years!”

 

“You don’t have to – a ‘thank you’ was enough, really. And I don’t think I did anything spectacular.”

 

So here he is in the car, listening to Jackson talk about how much he likes Korea and answering his questions on why he entered the fashion industry. Bambam keeps an elbow on the stack of movie scripts next to him, afraid that it would fall over. The manager keeps looking at him through the rear view mirror suspiciously. When they arrive at a small store, Jackson puts up a hand for Bambam to wait. Bambam sits back, watching curiously as the manager heads out first to check the area and as Jackson throws on a cap and facemask. Oh, right, Jackson’s a celebrity.

 

The manager gives Jackson a thumbs-up. They head out, shuffling around the van and ducking under the large banner of the restaurant. After Jackson orders for the both of them, Bambam belatedly realizes how good Jackson is at Korean.

 

“I went to college here, actually. At one point in my life I thought I was going to building my career here, but,” Jackson shrugs, “you see.”

 

“Wow, how long did you stay in Korea?”

 

“Five years.”

 

“How old are you?” Bambam asks.

 

“I recently turned 29.” Bambam almost spits out his water – what the fuck how does Jackson look so good at 29? But then again…he _is_ dating someone who’s also 29. What’s with Bambam and meeting all of these old people? “And what about you? You look like a baby, now that I’m getting a good look at you.”

 

“I’m not a baby,” Bambam frowns. But even he looks a little sheepish when he answers, “…I’m 20. But I will be 21 in May!” If that makes it any better.

 

Jackson gasps, tilting up his cap. “You _are_ a baby.” He slumps. “Or I’m just getting old. Kids these days are so successful…”

 

“You’re saying that as if you aren’t a top star.”

 

“You didn’t even recognize me.”

 

“You remember that?!”

 

“Why aren’t you calling me hyung?” Jackson retorts instead.

 

“Why do I have to call you hyung? We’re both foreigners!”

 

“Well, we’re in Korea now, aren’t we? Gotta play by the rules,” Jackson grins while Bambam grumbles under his breath. “I’m just making it fair – some people can be really uptight about it, you know.”

 

They eat loudly and sloppily, completely abandoning their images and just having fun bickering about random things. Bambam’s just met Jackson, but he feels a lot like an older brother, hair ruffling and jokingly condescending tone – the full package. He’s really, _really_ friendly and touchy, ignoring, or perhaps unaware of, people’s personal boundaries. But it’s impossible to get mad at him, or to say no, because he just looks so happy when he gets his way. When the meal is done and paid for, Jackson calls his manager for his whereabouts. Even this late it’s hard to find parking.

 

Jackson leads the way while Bambam chatters next to him. Mid-sentence, Jackson pulls his cap off and shoves it down Bambam’s head. Bambam yelps in surprise, reaching up to lift the cap from obscuring his vision.

 

“No –!” Jackson pushes it down securely. He stands closer, hand close to grabbing Bambam’s wrist. “Hey, don’t freak out, but I think someone’s following us.”

 

“WHAT!”

 

“Shh!”

 

Bambam purses his lips, eyes darting around beneath the cap.

 

“We have to cross the street. I’ll guide you.”

 

“Why do _I_ have to cover up? Shouldn’t you be more worried?” Bambam frowns.

 

“Listen, if there’s someone following us then they already know that it’s me. You, however, are unknown. I’m trying to protect your identity here.”

 

“Oh,” Bambam says dumbly.

 

Jackson snorts at him, running his fingers through his hair. “Okay. When it’s a green light, get ready to run.”

 

“But I _hate_ running.”

 

“Go!” Jackson ignores him, snatching his wrist and pulling him along. Bambam is barely able to catch up, breathing heavily while Jackson sprints through the street like it’s nothing. After finding the manager’s van, Jackson quickly shoves Bambam in, who promptly collapses on the seat. The van starts driving even before they put their seatbelts on.

 

Once Bambam catches his breath, he complains – “ _I hate running_.”

 

That earns him a hit on his thigh. “You’re young, you should have more stamina!”

 

“I don’t need to exercise – all I do is draw shit and prick my fingers sewing!”

 

“Hey, where should we drop you off?”

 

Bambam gives them the directions, but once they get closer, they drop him half a block further than where his apartment is.

 

“Sorry,” Jackson pulls his facemask down to apologize. “I’d totally drop you straight home but I can’t be too sure if we’re still being followed. I don’t want the paparazzi to find out where you live. They should be after me, not you.”

 

“It’s okay, it’s near where the bus would’ve dropped me off anyway.”

 

“Sorry to put you through this. It was nice meeting you!” Jackson insists that they exchange numbers. “Keep in touch!”

 

Bambam waves at the departing van, turning around to walk home. Yugyeom won’t _believe_ what’s happened today.

 

-

 

(Jackson’s ringtone fills in the silence of the van. He stares at the screen for a bit; he doesn’t know the number. He’s not sure what convinces him to pick up the call, but it feels like it’ll be a mistake if he doesn’t.

 

“Hello?”)

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh, since there seems to be a lot of apologizing in this chapter, I'm just :D gonna join the bandwagon and say SORRRRYYYYY IT'S BEEN A WHILE AGAIN OTL. Oh and sorry that it's all a hibbity jibbity mess rn, I, too, hate the mess LOL. (((/flops over...the day this fic finishes will be the best day ever /tries to see the light))) But good news: I'm on summer break! ...For a total of two weeks lmao goddamn it. I signed up for summer classes and now I 200% regret it but point is, I'll be making the most of the time I have before I leave and will churn out another chapter in about a week. ((((if things go according to plan)))) 
> 
> Thank you so, so, SO much for reading this fic! I'm always happy and grateful to see the support that this is getting! ;u;


	6. give me you, give you me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Explicit Sexual Content: (Anal Sex, Fingering, Blow Jobs)

 

 

“It’s been a while,” Jinyoung says. The waiter pours their red wine, and Jackson watches the deep red drip into a blood-like pool. They nod in acknowledgement of the waiter’s departure. Jackson stares gratingly at the aged drink, letting the bitterness in him seep for just one moment before inwardly sighing. His fist clenches under the table as he downs half of it in one go, ignoring Jinyoung’s peering eyes as he sips his glass. Jackson is going to need the alcohol in him.

 

“It has.” Jackson purses his lips. 

 

They have dinner silently. The only sounds that can be heard throughout the empty restaurant is the clink of silver on porcelain and the soft pat of glass on white linen tablecloth. Jinyoung is precise and neat even in dining, his cuts on the veal soundless, his bites small. Jackson hacks away on his steak, smearing the glaze around the entire plate and chewing loudly. He has to curl his finger at the waiter, who wordlessly refills his glass. Jackson tips the entire glass into his mouth right then and there, and the waiter makes the motion to pour the wine yet again.

 

“He’s had enough.”

 

“I haven’t,” Jackson retorts. They exchange hard stares. “Another one, please.”

 

Jinyoung doesn’t stop him a second time, just watches wearily as Jackson swirls the wine around and brings it to his lips. But he doesn’t drink all of it this time. Jinyoung looks back down to his meal and pretends that Jackson isn’t watching his every move. They continue this play for the entirety of the meal, eating uncomfortably while pretending they’re just fine, glancing up and to the side while pretending they’re not. And if they ever catch the other, they merely look away and pretend the tension isn’t there. The waiters keep their mouths shut, even though they are far away from the scene. It looks like a fight is brewing.

 

“How have you been?” Jinyoung knows how he’s been. He looks online, from time to time. Just enough to know.

 

“Great. Busy. And you?”

 

“Likewise.”

 

“I see…” Jackson trails off. He doesn’t know what else to say, _if_ there’s anything to say at all. They haven’t met up in years, and Jinyoung’s sudden call to meet up is just bizarre, to say the least. He can’t even bring himself to be brighter about their reunion, to lighten up the obvious strain in their relationship. It’s as if all that time apart was for naught, and their dinner tonight a travel back in time to when they were at the brink of graduation. To when Jackson decided to leave for good.

 

“Congratulations on being Actor of the Year.”

 

“Oh...that was months ago. Thank you.”

 

“I’m glad you’re doing well.”

 

“Glad to see you’re...the same as always,” Jackson smiles distantly. The square of his shoulders, the rigidness of his posture, the small smile engraved on his serene face – all of it – is just as he remembered. It makes him nostalgic to see that nothing much has changed, but it also makes him afraid for the very same reason. It’s as if time never moved on the same way he thought he did.

 

After a while, “...I heard you’re dating someone.”

 

Is that what this is about?

 

“Is it true?”

 

Jackson looks up at Jinyoung, and knows then that he must have seen all the headlines, the rumors and pictures floating around various forums from both his antis and fans. More “evidence” have been disclosed recently, and it’s ridiculous, really. They’re all grainy, dark pictures of him in a hoodie and a cap, eating out late at night or just before dawn after a long day of filming. It’s zoomed-in so bad it’s laughable. If one really tried, he can be seen with another figure that’s always hidden. Sometimes it’s actually his manager. Sometimes it’s the boy he’s just met and is quickly growing fond of as a little brother. The media is eating it all up because there’s nothing else to talk about. It makes a good story anyway – a top Chinese actor having a rendezvous with his Korean lover. Jackson thinks about all of this, and searches Jinyoung’s eyes, wondering what he means and why it matters. He wonders what kind of a reaction Jinyoung would have if he said yes. He wonders if it would finally make that smile of his falter, so that he could see what Jinyoung is really hiding underneath that carefully painted mask.

 

Jackson breathes in, slowly, deeply.

 

-

 

“If you were knitting, I would mistake you for a grandma.” Jaebum sets down two cups of tea, sitting down on the couch and swinging his arm over Bambam’s shoulders.

 

Bambam glares at him above his glasses, cheeks puffing up in displeasure. He has a pair of thread snippers in one hand and a baby pink dress in another, flipped inside out so all the seams are visible. Nora is lying on her back on his lap, paws attacking the air whenever Bambam snips a loose thread and lets it float down towards her amusement. Jaebum chuckles and pinches one of his squishy cheeks, then draws back with a comically surprised face when Bambam bites sharply close to where his fingers were.

 

“I thought I owned one cat,” Jaebum grins lopsidedly while Bambam huffs.

 

“Stop it, I’m stressed. Look at the state of my hair!”

 

“I don’t think your roots growing out is a sign of stress.”

 

“ _No_ , I’m so stressed that I don’t have time to redo my hair,” Bambam snips three pieces of thread angrily. But it’s not as satisfying as it sounds, because it’s the spring that’s making all of the snapping noises, not the force of his fingers.  It’s so troublesome - and honestly a waste of his time having to size his dress down because one of his models won’t fit no matter how many safety pins he puts on her. Well, he can, but it just looks horrible and he’s _not_ going to have her looking like that down the runway. Besides, it’s one of his friends who were kind enough to walk for him despite not being able to pay them much. He can’t afford to hire professional models for the competition. “Do you know how long it takes to bleach and color your own head? Yugyeom sucks because he always gets dye all over my neck.”

 

“Why don’t I try?”

 

“You?” Bambam says skeptically, frowning. “No thanks.”

 

Jaebum mimics his frown, looking slightly offended.

 

“I think I’ll go back to black. My hair is dying,” Bambam pinches a few strands of his bangs, staring cross-eyed at its nearly transparent brittleness. Nora meows beneath him, pawing at his arm. Bambam smiles and scratches her head, going back to working on his dress.

 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in natural hair,” Jaebum wonders aloud. It’ll probably be a drastic change, perhaps even strange to look at. Since he’s met Bambam, the younger had always had bleached, colored hair, starting from silver and getting lighter and lighter the longer they’ve been together.

 

“Yeah, but at this rate I’ll get bald even before you do.”

 

The arm that’s around Bambam’s shoulders makes it too convenient to put him into a chokehold. Nora leaps out of Bambam’s lap, getting out of the fray. Bambam makes poor choking noises as Jaebum manhandles him around the couch with his chin jutting out. Bambam slaps his arm in defeat quickly, reaching for the cup of tea when Jaebum loosens his grip.

 

“Careful,” Jaebum stops him from taking a big gulp immediately. “It’s still hot.”

 

Bambam hums and blows on it first, taking a tentative sip. It’s just on the edge of burning, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. “I like this,” he comments. It’s just jasmine green tea, though something about this brand has a deeper flavor and fragrance. He sets the cup down and willingly curls into Jaebum’s side despite recently being attacked. He continues taking apart the zipper from the dress. Meanwhile, Jaebum flips through the TV channels for something interesting to watch.

 

“Hyung, maybe you should get some work done; I’m going to take a while, and I still have a lot of papers to read afterwards.”

 

“I’d rather be here,” Jaebum dismisses the suggestion.

 

“If you say so.”

 

Bambam gets right back to the task at hand, shifting his glasses up his nose bridge. The channels are still flipping, new anchors and actresses barely getting a word in before Jaebum cuts them off with a push of the button on the remote. It’s kind of distracting, hearing the constant change of audio. Just as Bambam is getting used to it, Jaebum actually settles on a show. Out of curiosity, Bambam looks up to see what finally caught his attention – but it’s just the evening news, and the weatherman is showing tomorrow’s forecast. Bambam continues snipping; he’s at the waistband now, and only for this moment, he hates that he took such care to conceal the zipper in between the fabric. Jaebum’s arm moves down from his shoulders to behind his back and around the right side of his waist. The shift causes him to lean further into Jaebum, and he’s surprised when he feels him breathing closely to his ear. Bambam gives Jaebum a side-glance – but Jaebum isn’t even looking at him, eyes rapt on…hm, the weatherman.

 

Bambam is close to unraveling the entire zipper when Jaebum starts rubbing up and down on his waist in slow, absent-minded caresses. His forehead crinkles slightly. It’s harder to concentrate on pulling back the delicate fabric without ripping it when Jaebum is making a point to bring his attention to the gradually heating warmth between his hand and the curvature of Bambam’s body. In another ten minutes, the groping gets downright ridiculous, and there’s _no way_ Jaebum can keep that straight face of his completely innocent even though his eyes are still trained on the TV. The light is dancing in his eyes, and Bambam is more than a hundred percent sure that it’s not from the weatherman announcing that it’s going to be a sunny day tomorrow.

 

With a disbelieving huff, Bambam tosses his scissors, dress, and glasses onto the coffee table. He pushes himself up with one hand and swings his leg over Jaebum’s other side in one smooth motion, kneeling on the white suede with Jaebum in between his knees. Bambam puts on his most disapproving expression while Jaebum feigns surprise.

 

“Bambam?” There’s a hint of a smile twitching at the corner of Jaebum’s mouth.

 

“Hyung,” Bambam grunts with displeasure.

 

“What’s wrong? I was watching the news.” And yet he has the nerve to add another greedy hand on Bambam’s waist.

 

Bambam narrows his eyes. “I was busy, hyung.”

 

“Ah,” Jaebum’s devilish smile reveals pearly white teeth, mischievous eyes shining up at him. “Was I…” he gives Bambam a squeeze, “distracting you?”

 

Bambam lowers himself down to sit on Jaebum’s thighs, hands curling around Jaebum’s nape and sinking into his short hairs – but not without a glare. “You’re being unfair.”

 

“Am I?” Jaebum breaks into a real grin, the teasing lilt of his voice a touch infuriating but twice as endearing.

 

Bambam clicks his tongue, hiding the flutter of his pulse and leaning in until the last thing he sees before he closes his eyes is the smug look of victory on his hyung’s face. Oh, he’ll give Jaebum what he wants – and make him wish he’d be more careful about his sneaky little tricks. He’ll swipe that smirk off and make him lose at his own game.

 

Jaebum meets him halfway and Bambam doesn’t bother starting off slow, where they always press soft little kisses and mold their lips until they fit perfectly and comfortably, breathing in sync and sighing contently. He doesn’t hold back, not like when Jaebum cradles him gently and lets him rest his head on his shoulder, pulling away every now and then just to break into a smile that can’t be constrained any longer, when he looks at him like he’s the sweetest thing in the world and can’t believe that Bambam’s all his to hold. He doesn’t get shy like this, because for some reason it’s harder to look at Jaebum when he’s got that smitten and lovesick gloss over his eyes and Bambam knows that he’s reflecting the same rose-colored lens in his. No, it’s none of the above as he parts his lips and pries Jaebum’s open with a slow, wet lick, tongue slipping in for a deep taste of his hyung.

 

Jaebum makes a sound from the back of his throat, and Bambam doesn’t let Jaebum’s obvious – real – surprise deter him from pressing in further, gripping the back of Jaebum’s head with certainty as he drags his tongue along the roof of Jaebum’s hot mouth and ends with a wet pop of disconnection that leaves a trail of sin bridging their red lips. Jaebum stares at his lips with a passion that can be mistaken for anger, and Bambam smirks as he makes his hyung chase for it, teasing him with firmly closed lips and denying him of he heat he wants.

 

Bambam purposefully keeps their kisses disjointed, pulling back when Jaebum dives forward and closing the distance when he reluctantly retreats. Jaebum is quickly getting frustrated – Bambam can tell by the way his fingers are digging into his waist harsher than usual. But Bambam doesn’t want to give in, not yet, so he pushes his buttons for as long as he can and makes sure to add that little gasp that he has a strong hunch Jaebum has a thing for.

 

“What are you doing, hyung?” Bambam pouts. “Kiss me properly.”

 

Jaebum growls, “I’m trying, you _brat_.”

 

Jaebum sounds so upset that Bambam gleefully laughs. But Jaebum is too riled up to appreciate how cute his nose scrunch is. He smacks Bambam’s butt, leading to Bambam snickering against his cheek.

 

“ _Okay_ , hyung.”

 

Jaebum doesn’t like that tone of his, sounding like he’s giving in to a child when he’s talking to _his hyung_ – but, Bambam kisses it all away, and Jaebum forgets everything as Bambam finally lets him in, growing all soft and easy for Jaebum to do as he pleases. His grip on Bambam relaxes, but he makes up for it tenfold in his kisses, wasting no time in sucking on the velvety sweetness of his lips and tongue.

 

The sound of their sloppy lip locking is quiet and small relative to the massiveness of Jaebum’s home. But to them, the breathlessness of their exchange and the heat that’s quickly firing up their skin are enormities that suddenly make their surroundings feel too small. It leaves them no choice but to press closer together as the walls of lust close in on them, hands running desperately in search of quenching the wildfire. Jaebum’s hand slips under Bambam’s shirt, and the cool touch of the small of his back feels like an oasis in heat. It makes him want to run his hand up and all around, makes him want to leave the blazing prints of his fingers on Bambam’s golden skin.

 

Jaebum can feel Bambam’s core tightening beneath his hand, and between the rapid drumming of their heartbeats, he can barely recognize which one is his. Their chests heave heavily, deprived of air and prickling with adrenaline. Bambam eventually has to break it off, curling into Jaebum’s neck with an erotic sigh that knocks the air out of Jaebum and sends an ache down between his legs. Jaebum turns head to watch Bambam – and clenches his jaw as Bambam pants in little warm puffs against his neck, eyes closed and open-mouthed. He’s completely flushed, pretty and pink across his cheeks. The tip of his tongue peeks out from his thoroughly kissed red lips, and Jaebum has the sudden desire to sweep his thumb along the slicked red of his bottom lip and drag it just slightly so. He wants to press his thumb inside and feel the side of his mouth, feel the wetness and the heat, then tilt his chin up so that he can see the length of his neck as Bambam sucks and swallows on his –

 

Bambam’s lashes flutter, and with a flicker, he’s staring straight at Jaebum with pitch black eyes.

 

Jaebum breathes in sharply, face growing hot. It’s as if Bambam saw right through his sin.

 

He withdraws his hand from under Bambam’s shirt and combs it through the side of his hair instead. The light bounces back into his eyes as his breathing returns to normal, and he sends Jaebum a confused look.

 

“Jaebum hyung?” Bambam sits up.

 

Jaebum takes one final look at him and it takes everything in his power to not let the monster inside him surface with its possessive, hungry claws. The thing is, Jaebum has wanted Bambam for _so long_. And with each passing day, the carnal desire gets stronger and stronger – sometimes it’s frustrating and sometimes it’s suffocating, because he knows he’s better than this. He knows that he needs to wait and he knows that he _wants_ to wait, just as much as Bambam does. But his body reacts as if its got its own course of action, drawn in and completely electrified by a simple touch – and that’s honestly all it takes for him to come tumbling down into a mindless, endless, need for _just a little more_ from Bambam. Jaebum wants to be just a little closer. But the most frightening part is, Jaebum doesn’t know if he’ll ever be sated by just a little more. Because when he’s allowed to take a step, he wants yet another. And if Bambam lets him have that, he’ll still want _another._ He’s afraid of driving Bambam up against a wall and pressuring him in all the wrong ways.

 

And Bambam looks at him with so much trust – he leaves himself completely defenseless and vulnerable. If Jaebum doesn’t protect him, who will?

 

 _Be gentle_ , Jaebum reminds himself. _Don’t lose him. He’s precious._

 

“Let’s stop here – before it gets a bit dangerous.”

 

“Huh?” Bambam can’t help but make a sound of confusion at the sudden closure. They – they were being intimate, weren’t they? The mood was right, and everything. Sure, they were being a bit out of control with the heat but – Bambam looks at Jaebum’s meaningful gaze. “Oh.” Jaebum remembers his words the last time they got caught up like this.

 

Bambam reluctantly removes himself from Jaebum’s lap, settling next to him where he once was.

 

Jaebum smiles at him and kisses the inside of his wrist, where the moon hangs from a golden strand. It feels like a promise…or something.

 

Later, when Bambam goes home and gets all tucked into bed, he spends hours just rolling around in the dark, feeling strange. He tries to go to sleep, but his mind always trails back to that weird and abrupt way Jaebum put a stop to their making out because…he definitely wasn’t done. _But done with what?_ Bambam asks himself. Maybe…he just wasn’t done with kissing. And touching. And that might be why he’s feeling so unsatisfied and incomplete, because it felt like it could lead to them finally taking that jump forward and falling together into the unexplored territory of –

 

Bambam sits up.

 

He’s disappointed. He’s disappointed that Jaebum didn’t touch him.

 

-

 

But is it _really_ disappointment if Bambam still isn’t sure if he wants to have sex? What if he isn’t sure that he _isn’t sure_? Could he have been ready the entire time but was just too nervous to pull through? Wait, that doesn’t make sense. Bambam glares at the milk tea in front of him. Now he’s just horny and confused, for no reason.

 

“Why do _I_ have to listen to this?” Jungkook scrunches up his face in agony.

 

“ _Because_ ,” Bambam slaps the table then pretends to not regret it as his hand stings, “you don’t care, which makes it easier to talk about.”

 

“If that’s the case then Minghao would care even less.”

 

“Yes, but he’s mean. Imagine how many times he’d call me an idiot just to tell me to solve my own problems at the end of the conversation.”

 

Jungkook snickers around his straw. Yeah, that sounds about right. “I’m sure he’s better than that. He cares underneath it all.”

 

“I’m not in the mood to dig through one hundred layers of mockery right now.” Bambam frowns. “Anyway…”

 

Anyway, that wasn’t the only time he and Jaebum had come across the problem of unresolved sexual tension between the past few weeks. And initially, for the most part, Bambam had been okay with it and thought it was extremely thoughtful of Jaebum to put such weight into his hesitance. It’s unspoken yet speaks volumes about his kindness and how much he cares and thinks about it. He probably thought more deeply about it than Bambam himself. It’s great, it truly is – but maybe it would have been sweeter if he didn’t contradict their agreement to hold back in every waking moment by pulling Bambam close and running his hands all over him every chance he can get. They’re _both_ sending mixed signals, and if that isn’t the most frustrating thing Bambam has ever had to deal with in his life well then _god help him now_.

 

Bambam is _this_ close (he shows Jungkook his pressed thumb and finger) to just drop kicking Jaebum to the floor and yanking him by his ridiculously expensive tie and yelling at him to _stick it in him already_. But like, not a hard stick. Maybe a soft stick, like, with a lot of cuddling and kissing because he really likes it when Jaebum holds him dearly –

 

“ – Dude, are you listening to yourself?!” Jungkook chokes on a boba.

 

“What’s wrong with what I said? Do you want me to say ‘penis’ instead – hah, penis.” Bambam laughs immaturely on the side.

 

“…I think there’s something inherently wrong about someone who still laughs at the word ‘penis’ wanting to have sex.”

 

“C’mon, it’s a funny word! Say it with me.”

 

“What the – no!”

 

“Peeeeeeee –!”

 

“Oh my god, _shut up_!” Jungkook cackles.

 

On the other hand, it could be that Bambam isn’t as attractive as he thinks, so maybe he’s been reading this all wrong and –

 

“No, no, no anyone with eyes can see that he’s one hundred percent into you.”

 

“Right,” Bambam breathes out, but he sounds even more insecure now, the longer they’re talking about it. Jungkook looks at him worriedly, and wonders if he’s been doing a bad job reassuring him. As much as it pains him to have random horrifying images of Bambam in various _positions_ , he can see how much it means to him right now to bring their relationship to another level. Jungkook can see how much he wants it – emotionally, not just physically. It’s obvious, or else why would he be psyching himself out now, in front of Jungkook in the middle of a tea shop when he’s got so many things to attend to?

 

“Look, why don’t you just tell him what you want?” Jungkook taps on Bambam’s tea, urging him to take a sip and relax. “He’s not going to chew you out.”

 

“I can’t because it’s embarrassing!” Bambam shoves his face into his hands and kicks his legs under the table.

 

Jungkook lets himself roll his eyes. Bambam won’t see it anyway. “You’re an adult. Adults in a healthy relationship talk about what they think to each other so that problems from miscommunication won’t arise.”

 

“You talk as if you’ve been in one,” Bambam muffles.

 

Jungkook widens his eyes scandalously. “This _disrespect_.”

 

“Sorry, go on.”

 

“He’s no mind reader. What your body says could be different from what your mind says within a split second. Just think of that first time you said you weren’t ready.”

 

Bambam frowns. That’s true. Just because he was aroused didn’t mean he wanted to go all the way. He still groans, though, feeling petulant. “But I’m being so obvious! I’ve been wearing his big shirts around his house with shorts so short I might as well not wear them!”

 

 _That sounds like torture_ , Jungkook hides his grimace. “He wants you to _explicitly_ say it. He’s not taking any risks with you. Because he likes you.”

 

Jungkook lets him ponder about it by himself. In the meantime, Jungkook goes to buy another drink. Bambam looks up when he comes back with a chocolate snow in hand, wrapped neatly in a small cardboard carrier with a straw tucked on the side. It’s for Yugyeom. No one else in their group can stand that sugary sweet drink, but it’s Yugyeom’s favorite.

 

“Hey, thanks Kook. I think you’re right.”

 

“Of course.” Jungkook looks smug as he puffs his chest up proudly.

 

“If only you were as good with your love life as you are with others.”

 

He deflates immediately, taking offense. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“Hey, do you want a double date with me and hyung? I’ll ask Yugyeom to go bowling,” Bambam says instead, lips curling up evilly as Jungkook’s face reddens like a tomato.

 

“ _How did you know_?”

 

“Honestly, I’m more surprised no one else in the group caught on. I mean, think about it. We’re always together, and know each other like the back of our hands. And here you are, always taking his side. Yugyeom’s dumb but I didn’t think Jimin or Minghao would be the type to miss something right under their noses.”

 

“Oh my god.”

 

It’s Bambam’s turn to puff up. “So yeah?” He grins. “How’s Saturday at eight?” He can set them up – but it’ll be on Jungkook to tell Yugyeom whether or not it’s a date.

 

-

 

(“You like that kid?” Jaebum peers at Yugyeom spinning around with a green bowling ball, pretending it’s a watermelon.

 

“You like _that_ kid?” Jungkook shakes his head at Bambam rolling the ball from between his legs, which ends up in the gutter.

 

Yugyeom later manages to roll a strike, and they both sit back with exasperated but fond smiles as Yugyeom and Bambam cause a scene with excessive dabbing.)

 

-

 

Despite receiving a pep talk and all, Bambam still hasn’t said anything to Jaebum. It’s just that every time the opportunity arises, he gets so red that Jaebum sometimes thinks he’s running a fever. And when asked, he waves it off and bursts into a funny story about what happened at school instead. All in all, they’re getting nowhere. Bambam still gets nervous thinking about it, which is weird and frustrating to him because now he knows he wants it, but he doesn’t want to _say_ that he wants it. Wouldn’t it be better if it happened naturally? It’d be weird to…plan it, right?

 

Bambam sighs in class. He hasn’t been paying attention for the past half hour and it’s too late to try and make any sense out of the front board. But on a lighter note, his collection is really coming together. He’s only got one more dress in the making, but it’s practically considered done as it’s merely sitting on his desk at home waiting for him to iron. There’s still the fact that he’s a few models short, but if it comes down to it, he can accept the loss and just hope that those who promised to walk for him will be able to change in and out of different outfits in two minutes flat.

 

Bambam finishes his coffee long before class ends, and dashes out the door the moment it’s dismissed. He checks his watch while striding out of the building. There’s apparently a casting call at the office today, and if he gets there early enough, he can sit through the process and watch how his superiors determine whether or not a model’s image fits the brand. He’d like to see how campaign models are chosen – surely it’s not just about preference, right? Bambam is definitely reaching here, but there’s also the slim chance that he can sweet-talk someone into walking for his personal collection. It’ll be a hefty investment – but publicity is important, and honestly, Bambam has been extremely picky about who will be able to wear his red gown. He’s attached to it, probably because it was the first of his many creations for this year. It just doesn’t look right on those who he’s let try on so far…it’s as if it’s been looking for its rightful owner.

 

He whirls around the corner for the bus stop, barely looking at his surroundings. He’s so focused on making it there in time that he doesn’t hear his name being called, getting a heart attack when a hand circles around his wrist.

 

“Bam,” Jaebum pants. He must’ve run after him. “What’s the rush?”

 

“Oh!” Bambam sends him a sorry look. “I didn’t hear you. I’m trying to get to the office quickly – today’s an important day…uh, for me.”

 

“Lucky I decided to come pick you up today, huh?”

 

Bambam smiles and gives him a quick peck on the corner of his lips. “Thank you. But don’t do this too often. I still think it looks irresponsible of you to leave work for something so insignificant.”

 

Jaebum scoffs as he laces their fingers, leading Bambam to where he parked his car – in a more discreet place, after Bambam’s warned him not to make such a flashy entrance again. “Nonsense. I was on my way back from a lunch meeting anyway.”

 

Bambam cuts him to the chase in opening the car door, and he hears a displeased grunt behind him as Bambam pulls it open to find a dozen red roses sitting on the passenger’s seat.

 

“Who are these for?” Bambam giggles, bringing them up to his nose for a whiff. Okay, screw the models; his day has already been made. Nothing’s going to top this today. Bambam is really glad to have the corniest boyfriend to ever exist in the world.

 

“You’re supposed to let me surprise you with them.”

 

“What do you mean? I’m surprised enough, aren’t I?” Bambam leans in and kisses him on the lips this time, letting it linger and sweeten until he’s satisfied with the soft, mesmerized look in Jaebum’s eyes, a melted caramel color as a result of the sun. They get in the car, where Jaebum takes the opportunity to admire him at every red light.

 

Bambam’s hair is pitch black now, darker than the night itself. He’s cut his sides, but his bangs have been left untouched, long and split in the middle to frame his face. It’s styled in a way that makes his hair look wavy and damp – as if he’s just come out of the shower. Jaebum didn’t know what to think when Bambam mentioned dying his hair back to a more natural color, but he certainly didn’t expect to be blown out of the waters by this mature look. He should’ve known by now that Bambam would look good in anything. And the roses complement him perfectly. They bring out the color in his lips and add a pretty touch to his already regal appearance, all slim lines and dripping confidence.

 

(But that cool demeanor always melts away when he looks up at Jaebum with a small, shy smile and doe eyes. He is, after all, Jaebum’s baby.)

 

Jaebum drops him off right at the entrance and takes his time saying goodbye. Bambam’s lucky that it’s not a busy street, or he’ll be curling up in embarrassment at having peering eyes on their gross displays of affection. He hopes that no one is in the waiting room of the office right now; there are tinted glass walls there that have a good view of the front entrance.

 

“Are you coming over tonight?” Jaebum asks.

 

“Should I?” Bambam looks up in thought – does he have a due date that he’s forgotten about? He should really only come over to Jaebum’s when he can spare time. Otherwise, it’s obvious that nothing will get done and he’ll be the one suffering the next day wishing he’d started that one paper already.

 

“I think I’ll be home earlier than usual. I can make dinner for us.”

 

“Really?” Bambam can’t help the excitement from lighting up his face. Jaebum’s never home before eight, so him coming over on a regular day usually consists of playing with Nora and _thinking_ about doing his readings while waiting for Jaebum to get off work. Sometimes he actually manages to finish something during that time, but anything beyond that is a lost cause. “Guess I’ll tell Yugyeom not to wait for me then.”

 

“Okay. See you, baby.”

 

“Bye, hyung.”

 

The first thing he does at the office is filling up a mason jar with water for the roses. He thought about taking them home, but they look nice at the corner of his desk. It’s nice to have something not completely white to look at. Bambam greets his co-workers on the way to the casting room. His boss is probably still in there with her clipboard and trademark pen in her hair bun. Bambam peers through the glass door before stepping in, assessing the atmosphere. It’s generally quiet, conversations kept to a low hush as models come in and out of the other side of the hallway where the dressing room and a mock runway platform are. Some of them greet him with a bow as he smiles and walks by, though with a bit of hesitance. It’s okay – he does look too young to be an employee, not to mention one with a pin to identify him as one of the designers in the house. If anything, Bambam is more intimidated by them. Somehow all of the male models in the room manage to have the same type of small, slanted, and piercing eyes, the kind that would make you want to run away from if you saw it in a dark alley. The women aren’t as scary, though Bambam wouldn’t put it past them to be able to snap his back in two. But wow, he blinks, his boss clearly seems to have a type.

 

Bambam slides to the back, smiling at his boss and tailing her around under the guise of “offering a helping hand.” She raises an eyebrow, clearly not remembering asking for help, but shrugs as he manages to get her exactly what she wants without peeping a word. The boy is much too good at this.

 

“Call up the next girl, Bambam. She should be done by now.”

 

Bambam goes to knock on the dressing room, “Excuse me. Are you ready, miss?”

 

“Yes – just a second!”

 

He waits outside for another minute. The door opens slowly, and the girl inside slips out with a big, bright smile. Bambam stares in shock at her glittery and equally big eyes, her round face and pink lips. She’s got shoulder-length dirty blonde hair cut as straight as her bangs and – and Bambam knows this girl. She gasps, bringing her hands to her mouth and bouncing on the balls of her feet.

 

“ _Bambam?_ ”

 

“ _Lisa_?”

 

Lisa squeals, grinning in disbelief as she switches to Thai. “Bambam! What are you doing here?”

 

“I could ask you the same!” Bambam exclaims, reaching out to give her a quick hug. “I haven’t seen you since…high school? _Wow_.”

 

She nods excitedly. “I’m so glad to see you! I just moved here and I was so worried about not having any friends.”

 

Bambam smiles whole-heartedly. He loves his life here in Korea, but to be able to see someone with a touch of home in Thailand has him genuinely excited and happy. “Let’s catch up later – you’ve got a walk to do.”

 

“Right.”

 

Bambam schools his expression as he leads her to the platform, where she’ll demonstrate her walk in the brand’s clothing. His boss watches her keenly, and so does Bambam as she completely changes from the girl he just saw two seconds ago into an effortlessly cool woman. Her walk is good – strides long but not too fast, and her shoulders are straight yet relaxed. Her proportions make her look taller than she is, and she clearly has presence on stage. Bambam sends her a thumbs-up behind his back as she makes her turn. He gets a wink back and struggles to keep the corners of his lips from curling up.

 

“Thank you. You have a good walk.”

 

Lisa beams at the compliment.

 

“You can go home now; we’ll call to notify you of our decision.”

 

“Yes, thank you,” she bows and takes her leave. When the head designer isn’t looking, she whips her head over her shoulder and makes a phone call signal to Bambam. “ _Call me_ ,” she mouths. Bambam laughs as she wobbles on her heels from not looking at where she’s going, the stiletto catching onto the edge of the rug. Lisa pulls herself upright at the last second, clutching her heart in fear. Her job as a model is to walk – imagine falling flat on her face right in front of her potential employer.

 

Bambam goes down the hallway to bring in another model, but not before discreetly pulling Lisa aside and pressing his number into her phone. Although he’s already packed with appointments from his extensive and ever-growing list of friends, he’ll most definitely, absolutely make time to see her. It’s a miracle that he can see his childhood friend in a foreign country solely by chance. The rest of his day goes well enough, and he’s especially excited when he gets a text from Lisa right after cleaning up the delicious meal Jaebum had whipped up. He shows it to Jaebum even though he can’t read Thai, too caught up in the happiness of a rekindled friendship.

 

He sends her a picture of Jaebum doing the dishes and in return, gets a picture of Lisa’s girlfriend mid-scowl while rolling her hair up for heatless curls tomorrow.

 

**Lisa**

[Fri, Apr. 20, 8:45PM]

ah!!!

she hit me!!!

TT_____TT

 

**me**

[Fri, Apr. 20, 8:46PM]

55555555

 

They quickly catch up on what they’ve been up to the past few years. Bambam tells her about his college experience so far and his growing career in fashion design, as well as bits about Yugyeom and the others. It turns out that not long after he left Thailand, Lisa was scouted by a modeling agency and had been travelling the world taking high fashion photo shoots in Switzerland, walking the runways in China and covering magazines in Japan. Genuinely surprised, he asks her why she’s moved to Korea when she clearly has quite the successful career travelling internationally.

 

**Lisa**

[Fri, Apr. 20, 9:21PM]

I’ll still travel if I find work!

but I just wanted to have a home to come back to

with Jennie!! ♥

 

Jennie is her best friend of three years and girlfriend of one, who’s also a makeup artist and practically Lisa’s personal stylist. Bambam lets himself brag about Jaebum a little bit too, just because he can.

 

**Lisa**

[Fri, Apr. 20, 9:28PM]

wow! OuO that’s quite the age difference!

 

**me**

[Fri, Apr. 20, 9:28PM]

it actually doesn’t feel that noticeable

 

**Lisa**

[Fri, Apr. 20, 9:29PM]

you must be so mature~

 

**me**

[Fri, Apr. 20, 9:30PM]

???

 

**Lisa**

[Fri, Apr. 20, 9:31PM]

surely it must take a lot of effort and experience to make it work

that’s so admirable!~

 

**me**

[Fri, Apr. 20, 9:32PM]

oh…

I guess so?

 

Bambam doesn’t know how, but suddenly he’s getting the feeling that Lisa is looking up to him for relationship advice, which…is ridiculous. He waits with apprehension as Lisa continues to type on her phone, clearly about to send a long message.

 

**Lisa**

[Fri, Apr. 20, 9:35PM]

sorry, this might seem really sudden

but you’re the only one I know here besides Jennie

and I really think you could help me out!

I’ve been thinking about taking our bedroom life up a notch

hehe~

 

Uhm. Bambam sweats. Uhm, no. He can’t help her.

 

**Lisa**

[Fri, Apr. 20, 9:35PM]

since you surely know a lot,

will you go shopping with me???

 

Oh! Bambam relaxes, smiling. Shopping? _Hell yeah_ , he knows _a lot_ about shopping. What good of a fashion designer is he if his favorite pastime isn’t shopping for clothes (and crying about the price tags)? He doesn’t hesitate in sending her an “okay,” planning out all the shops he wants to tackle in his head already. It’s been a while since he’s gone out shopping. He probably can’t spend much, but it’s still fun to look around and see what’s trending.

 

-

 

“Come on, let’s go in!”

 

Bambam feels his soul leaving his body as Lisa drags him inside, his face frozen in a moment’s horror. Lisa immediately pulls him to the back of the store, where she happily searches through the racks. Alright, when Bambam agreed to go shopping, he thought they would be buying… _clothes_. Actual clothes that do what they’re supposed to do: cover yourself up. Instead, Bambam’s eyes stay perpetually wide in a fluctuating mixture of shock and mortification as he whips his head back and forth from Lisa and the racy, lewd displays of baby dolls and sex toys. Bambam wobbles over to her side and almost has a breakdown when she giggles at a misplaced plug in one of the sale buckets. It’s sharp. And it looks like it could send someone to the hospital.

 

“Thank goodness you’re here with me – otherwise I’d be too shy to walk in by myself!”

 

“Uh,” Bambam croaks in response. He nervously scans the premises, noticing how there are only two other girls in the adult shop, and it’s highly likely that they’re both employees. He accidentally looks at them for too long and catches one of their eyes, stomach dropping in fear when she starts walking over with a big smile.

 

“ _Lisa_!” Bambam hisses, touching her elbow in panic. Lisa looks at him with questioning eyes, both hands full with lingerie to try on. He gawks at her, unbelieving of her openness about the entire situation and how unabashed she is at being with another man in an adult shop when it’s so easy to give off misunderstandings.

 

“Bam, do you like the black one or the white one?” She shows both of them too close to his face for comfort.

 

“I –!” Bambam glances between the choices in front of him and the quickly approaching employee. “The white one,” he decides with a fierce blush. He is _not_ mentally prepared to be here. And he still can’t wrap his head around how Lisa, who has only met up with him again a few days ago, can trust him with helping her in making such personal choices in her life.

 

“Yeah? Hold this for me, please?”

 

Bambam fumbles with the white lingerie.

 

“Hello! Are you two looking for anything in particular?”

 

“No,” Bambam replies quickly, “no, thank you.”

 

“Don’t be shy,” Lisa smiles behind a hand. “You said you had lots of plans.”

 

He chokes – “ _No_ – I – those were different plans!” He watches with trepidation as the two girls share a knowing look and giggle. “And we’re not together!” He feels the need to clear up.

 

“Oh,” the employee nods in understanding. “Would you like me to show you the men’s section? We have a buy one get one half off sale right now!”

 

“I’m in the right section,” he attempts to dismiss the girl. However, he immediately regrets his words the moment he sees her face twist from confusion to realization – and of what, he’s afraid to know. Lisa’s eyes also bulge, blinking at him owlishly until she too, breaks into a wide grin. And as it all unfolds, Bambam wants the world to swallow him whole, never to see the surface ever again. He’s suddenly reminded of what part of the store he is in and his knees buckle. Bambam and Lisa are surrounded by lacy babydolls, all pastel and pretty bows. And he currently has a white lace dress and matching panties in his hand.

 

“ _Oh_ ,” they say in unison at the same time his mind screams “ _help_.”

 

“Let me know if you need anything!”

 

Bambam and Lisa watch her saunter off, and when she’s gone, Bambam determinedly keeps his head completely turned from Lisa’s awed, trained stare. The lingerie feel like fire in his hands, and yet he’s gripping it so hard he can’t seem to let go of it even through the horrible turn of events.

 

“ _Wow_ ,” Lisa whispers under her breath. He can’t help but look at her then, too easy when it comes to capturing his attention. He doesn’t know what to feel when she looks at him with a faint blush and curious eyes, as if he just gave her one of his biggest secrets in the bedroom when she’s literally the one to shove it into his hands. “You must be really…experienced.”

 

“…Not at all.” Bambam winces. He’s being honest and not trying to downplay anything, but to her, it just sounds like he’s trying to be humble.

 

“I didn’t know you were looking for one too! Do you like that one?” She gestures to his hand. “You can have it.”

 

“I can’t wear it – it has cups,” he stares at it exasperatedly. Actually. Wait. What is he saying?

 

“Right, right,” Lisa clasps her hands in understanding. “Let’s look for ones without.”

 

Half an hour later, with Lisa earnestly rummaging through the racks and Bambam pretending to do the same thing with shaky hands, Lisa excitedly calls him over. Her head bobs up and down from a distance, and Bambam falters in his step when he sees a baby pink blur fluttering back and forth in the air as she waves it around. When he’s within reach, she instantly presses the clothes hanger to align with his shoulders and lets the babydoll drape down his figure for a preview. It’s a pretty and barely pink little slip, completely transparent with a slit from the chest area downward that cascades in soft ruffles of floral lace. It’s held up on the shoulders by satin tie-on ribbons that match the back of a pair of panties, which is only a string on the backside. Objectively, Bambam will have to admit that it’s cute and soft to the touch. Everything about it screams dainty and delicate, and he’d imagine it to be extremely arousing for whoever’s lucky enough to have their partner all dolled up like this.

 

But – _dear lord_ – on _him_?

 

“It’s so pretty!” Lisa gasps and gushes. “You’ll look so pretty in it!”

 

Bambam finds himself tongue-tied, and his inability to speak overwhelms him. It should be easy to refuse; he should be able to back away within a heartbeat and tell Lisa that he’s not into these kinds of things and yet…his cheeks are flushed, and the twinkle of interest in his eyes is undeniable.

 

In another minute, he finds himself trapped in a dressing room with mirrors on all three walls. Lisa is in another stall, and he can hear her chirping happily about how much she likes it and how the white was definitely a good choice. Bambam swallows thickly – he’s all by himself, and of course no one is going to look but…he still feels nervous, and he can’t stop his heart from pounding against his chest. The mirrors make it even worse, because it means that he won’t be able to escape the sight of himself no matter the angle.

 

Bambam takes a deep breath. He’s just going to try it on. There’s no harm in that. He probably won’t even like how it’ll look on him. He’s not meant for babydolls – they’re manufactured with images of women in mind, with their tiny and curvaceous bodies, their long curled hair resting innocently on perky breasts. Bambam is all slim and narrow lines, the widest point about him being his shoulders. It won’t look good. And it’s not like he absolutely has to buy it either.

 

He silently pulls his shirt over his head and purses his lips when he pulls down his pants. He can’t imagine trying to fit into those _tiny_ pink panties now so he leaves his boxers on. For now, he has a bigger mental fight to deal with: actually picking up the courage to slip on the babydoll. When Bambam picks it off the hanger, he once again has to marvel at the sleek material. It feels cool to the touch and slides on his skin like water. Bambam shuts his eyes tightly and shoves it on in one, quick go so that there’s no time to back out. And he can feel every millisecond that it pools down on his torso, glazing against his skin like a teasing touch. Bambam brings his hands over his eyes and peeps through his fingers. He’s unable to hold in the gasp that escapes his lips when his sight falls on his reflection.

 

It looks cute. _He_ looks cute.

 

The babydoll fits his slim figure perfectly due to its airiness and the light pink makes a good contrast with his tanner skin. The floral lace and the satin ribbons make him look smaller and daintier than he really is, and his wide shoulders don’t seem that noticeable when there are…so many other _distractions_. He’s tall, so the dress falls even shorter than it was intended to. It barely hangs above his pelvis and the top portion of his bottom. And when Bambam reaches down to pull on one of the ribbons on his shoulder – it unravels like a flower with its bud nipped, falling off and exposing his chest. He quickly scoops it back up, cheeks on fire as though he wasn’t practically naked in the first place.

 

Lisa looks at him expectedly on a bench when he finishes trying it on.

 

“…It’s pretty,” he murmurs.

 

While her happy smile and high-pitched chattering definitely plays a part, it’s really the thought of what Jaebum’s face would look like when he sees Bambam in it that propels him to make the purchase. The set is wrapped up in a copious amount of tissue paper and is handed to him in a discreet and fancy bag. Despite being light as a feather, it weighs heavily in his hand throughout the trip, and Bambam shoves it beneath his bed when he comes home. He lies flat on the bed face down.

 

Just what did he get himself into?

 

-

 

“Jungkook, come help me move the couch,” Changkyun calls, already holding onto one end.

 

“I’m busy,” Jungkook replies, taping on a birthday banner on the wall. He takes a few steps back to check his progress. It’s crooked.

 

Yugyeom steps out into the living room carrying the rest of the decorations, ignoring the bickering between Changkyun and Jungkook. The couch still hasn’t been moved, so he sets everything down.

 

“Hey, anyone want to help me move the couch?”

 

Jungkook shuts up and looks his way. He walks over and grabs one side of the couch while Yugyeom smiles and does the same. Together, they lift it up and move it towards the wall to create more space. Changkyun’s mouth drops and he points an accusing finger at Jungkook the moment Minghao comes in from the kitchen.

 

“You won’t believe what just happened!”

 

“What?” Minghao asks through a mouthful of cake, but it’s obvious he’s not paying attention.

 

“Jungkook totally ignored me but scurried over there when Yugyeom asked for help!”

 

“I hope that’s not Bambam’s cake you’re eating,” Yugyeom frowns.

 

“It’s Jimin’s test batch. Want some?”

 

“Oooh, yeah, is there more in the back?” Yugyeom doesn’t wait for an answer, already skipping to the kitchen.

 

Jungkook and even Minghao follow him, leaving Changkyun in the living room by himself.

 

“Hey!”

 

It’s three hours before the party, and everything is about ten percent done. Half an hour before the party, the house is probably only thirty percent decorated from what was intended and the only real accomplishment they’ve made collectively is remembering to bring the gifts and as for Jimin, successfully baking a cake without any of the boys sticking their fingers in. With telepathic communication, they kick all of the decorations into the closet and rip up the to-do list, considering the preparations done. When Changkyun freaks out that they’ve forgotten to buy drinks, Minghao rests his hand on his shoulder and smirks.

 

“Don’t worry. It’s all covered.”

 

The guests start pooling in, and Changkyun watches in amazement as each of them carry a case of beer or vodka in hand as if it were a ticket to the party. Minghao only looks smug as he high-fives anyone within reach who enters.

 

“… _How_.”

 

“Pulled some strings here and there,” Minghao watches contently as the drinks stack higher than even Bambam’s pile of presents. Yugyeom dims all of the lights and hooks up the music, already bobbing his head.

 

And now, all that’s left is to wait for the birthday boy.

 

-

 

Bambam smiles as he watches his adorable hyungs attempt to keep him busy, who are completely oblivious to how obvious they are being. Mark and Youngjae have kept him out of the house all day, first by taking him out to lunch and then stopping at anything that catches their attention in order to stall time. Sometimes they forget what they’re doing and accidentally turn Bambam into the third wheel, but the moment he’s stepped out of work, he’s been successfully whisked away. Bambam knows what’s going on – of course he does, it’s his birthday, after all. If he wasn’t already suspicious enough, then the fact that _Yugyeom_ being curt and vague with his texts is enough to confirm that a party is being set up at his apartment. Knowing that, Bambam has already taken the liberty of wiping the makeup off of his face. Every year, he gets caked one way or another, so he knows better by now to just make the clean up process as easy as possible.

 

Youngjae finally pretends to be tired around eight, and Mark eagerly agrees to take Bambam home.

 

“Hey! Bambam’s here!” Wonho shouts over the music as the three of them walk in.

 

The crowd cheers as Bambam gets tackled into a group hug by all of his friends, quickly getting dragged into the center of the party with little resistance. He can’t help but laugh, for no reason other than the pure happiness of being surrounded by all of his friends, new and old. As Yugyeom squeezes him tightly, Bambam peers over his shoulder and laughs even more at the crooked banner, the half-assed cutouts of his name in varying sizes. There’s pictures of his dark past pasted everywhere and Bambam would bet all of his money right now that it was Minghao’s idea.

 

Changkyun slaps on a tiny kids’ party hat on his head as a greeting, running away impishly right after he pulls the string under Bambam’s chin and causing him to shriek.

 

“Yah!” Bambam yells. Although the smile quickly finds its way back on his face again with so many people coming to wish him a happy birthday. There’s a lot more people he doesn’t know, but it’s a college party – he’s done his fair share of attending parties whose host he didn’t know either. Everyone has to have some sort of connection one way or another in order to get in, right? Jungkook hands him a beer, and they clink the cans together before taking a huge gulp.

 

An hour into the party, Bambam looks around. He’s with Yugyeom and Jungkook by the wall, chatting over the loud music. Mark and Youngjae are in their own world, as usual. Changkyun is being coerced into asking Momo to dance by Wonho and Hyungwon because they think it’ll be funny when he gets rejected, those assholes. Across from them is Minghao, trapped against the wall by the arm of a taller, handsome guy. Minghao huffs and throws the arm off, walking towards where the table of drinks are, which is conveniently behind Bambam.

 

“Who’s that?” Bambam looks behind Minghao.

 

“Mingyu. He has economics with him,” Jungkook supplies.

 

“ _Oh ho_ ,” Bambam wiggles his eyebrows, elbowing Yugyeom.

 

“ _Oh ho_ ,” Yugyeom echoes.

 

“Shut up. He’s _so gross_ ,” Minghao grumbles while opening another can of beer.

 

“Then what was that just now?”

 

“…Said he’d make my heart race or something, _ugh_.”

 

“Well, did it?” Yugyeom flashes one of his creepier smiles and blinks up at Minghao, who promptly flips him off and escapes into the kitchen. The three left behind laugh together and gush excitedly, wondering how the two of them will turn out given three weeks’ time. Bambam’s been nursing the same can that Jungkook first handed to him, and he hopes that no one’s noticed. For some reason, he’s not in the mood to get drunk, even though he thinks he should just to make his friends’ effort in throwing the party worth it.

 

In the kitchen, Jimin defends her territory by swatting at any grabby hand that approaches her cake, which she is trying her hardest to fit all twenty-one candles on top. She lights up one candle, tapping her foot impatiently while using it to transfer the flame to the others as well. Someone reaches out to help her, and her line of sight traces up from the arm to Jaebum’s face.

 

“Hi,” she smiles softly. “Glad you could make it.”

 

“Of course.”

 

“You didn’t tell him you were coming, right?”

 

“It’s a surprise, isn’t it?”

 

Jimin nods and lets him lift the cake, turning off the lights on her way out. The talking stops upon sight of the candles, and Bambam’s gasp can be heard after Yugyeom sneaks behind the speakers to lower the volume. Everyone sings “Happy Birthday,” but all Bambam can focus on is the orange glow in Jaebum’s eyes. They gaze at each other for the entire song, and Bambam belatedly realizes that Jaebum is singing too, with a voice that’s sharp and sweet all at once. He can only tell that it’s over when he hears the whoops and claps, his eyes widening in amazement.

 

“You promised to take me out on the weekend instead,” Bambam whispers.

 

“I still am,” Jaebum smiles, and Bambam’s chest constricts because it’s the one he likes the most, where his eyes get all small yet there’s a definite glimmer behind them. It softens his entire aura, no matter how many piercings he wears or what kind of luxury brand he’ll adorn. It makes him the cute and thoughtful hyung Bambam knows and keeps close to heart. “Make a wish, everyone’s waiting.”

 

“Right,” Bambam says breathlessly. He closes his eyes and blows out all the candles a few seconds later. The room collapses into complete darkness – and Bambam jumps in surprise as he feels Jaebum’s lips pressing on his own.

 

“Wooooo! Happy –!” Changkyun starts off cheerfully, cutting off abruptly when the lights reveal Jaebum and Bambam kissing in a loving embrace. The cake is balanced on one hand while Jaebum’s other arm is wrapped possessively, securely around Bambam’s middle. There’s a collective mixture of squeals and groans, which turns into a divide between hooting for more and begging for them to break apart.

 

Bambam pulls away first, grinning and blushing at all of the attention but still looking solely at his hyung. Jaebum loosens his grip and begins to pluck off the candles, tossing them onto the coffee table. In one moment, he’s responding to the whistles. In another, he feels a strong grip at the back of his neck, white icing filling his vision until it makes contact with his face with a smack. A huge glop slides off his nose, and the sound of laughter and cameras flashing is instant.

 

“Hyung!” Bambam gives Jaebum a shove, trying not to smile at his full-bodied laugh. “I trusted you!”

 

“The actual cake is over here!” Jimin waves into the kitchen. “Whoever wants a slice better come here now before they run out!”

 

After taking hundreds of selfies with his cake-face from every angle known to man, Bambam heads to the bathroom to wash it off. Jaebum tails after him with a towel, gingerly cleaning him up and making mocking baby noises at his pouting.

 

“Close your eyes,” Jaebum says gently, and sweeps the cotton over his lids where Bambam’s missed a spot even with water. For some reason, Bambam feels tired, even though it’s not that late at night. It’s probably only eleven, and he’s yet to open his presents. He’s sure Jimin will want to film the whole thing and make a big deal out of it as one of the main events. It might be because it’s so crowded tonight. He appreciates the huge party and all, but some part of him was hoping for a small celebration – something not so draining and loud. Maybe he’s just getting old from hanging around Jaebum too much.

 

Bambam leans forward with a sigh, letting Jaebum catch him into a hug. Jaebum strokes his hair, fingers running through ebony strands.

 

“What’s wrong? Are you tired already?”

 

Bambam nods.

 

“They’ll want you out there, you know.”

 

“I know,” Bambam nuzzles closer to his neck. His voice is muffled as he says, “Just let me stay here with you for a moment.”

 

Jaebum would be a fool to say no to that. They lock the door and lean against the bathroom wall. The music becomes muted with the extra room separating them from the party, leaving them encased in a strange sense of tranquility. Within minutes, Bambam feels better already. That doesn’t mean he has to leave his hyung’s warm arms though.

 

“Hey, thanks for coming. You didn’t have to, hyung.” It’s not his scene, so it’s touching enough that Jaebum will make the effort to attend such a rowdy party that he’s matured from ages ago.

 

“I wanted to. How could I not see you on your birthday?” Bambam can hear the smile in his voice. “Speaking of which…” Jaebum takes a look at his watch. “There’s half an hour left of it. Any last requests?”

 

“No, not really,” Bambam shrugs. But after someone knocks on the door, yelling that they _really_ need to pee, he looks back at Jaebum. “Actually…”

 

“Actually?” Jaebum raises an eyebrow. He hadn’t expected anything, considering how Bambam has always refused to tell Jaebum what he wanted. So now that he was willing to open up, Jaebum felt more than ready to make his wishes come true, no matter now big or small.

 

“Take me somewhere to see the stars.”

 

-

 

It took an hour past midnight to find the opportunity to slip out of the party. Bambam and Jaebum had waited until everyone was drunk enough to not notice their absence, too busy keeping their drinks in and hovering over what’s left of the cake with a shaky vision. Jimin caught Bambam’s eye at the very last moment though, flaring up at the sight of him ditching his own birthday party but softening upon seeing his linked hands with Jaebum, who’s already mostly out the door by the time she saw them.

 

“Go,” she mouthed with a roll of her eyes.

 

Bambam waved apologetically and then shuffled out with his shoes hanging off his fingers. Once the front door was shut, Bambam and Jaebum shared a grin and dashed to the car.

 

Now, Bambam is resting on his arm against the open window, relishing in the cool breeze as Jaebum’s car whizzes through the empty streets. The front of his hair flies upwards every time Jaebum speeds up, and it must seem funny to him, because he keeps driving with a hand over his mouth. At some point, Bambam forgets why he asked them to leave in the first place, attention caught by the lights of a 24/7 donut shop. All he has to do is point and Jaebum is already making an illegal U-turn. Bambam snorts out a laugh as he clutches onto the side of the car, the turn too wide. Jaebum should really start building up some resistance to him.

 

Bambam ponders between the chocolate and the toffee flavor, but ends up having to rush to the cash register screaming chocolate before Jaebum ends up buying out the entire display just because it’s easier if Bambam can’t make a decision. They end up on the road not long after disrupting the quiet of the donut shop, fingers sticky from sugar.

 

Jaebum finally takes him to the Han River, where he hopes will be enough to show Bambam what he wants to see. It’s not hard to find a good spot at this time. It’s just them by the bank, gazing at the surface of the water where it’s black and shiny, a reflection of the lights in the distance. It’s the closest thing to the stars; Seoul is much too cloudy and polluted to reveal much of the sky. It would take them hours to get to the countryside if Bambam was really desperate to see them.

 

“Sorry, it’s the best we can do, tonight.”

 

Bambam shakes his head. “It’s okay. I wasn’t serious.” He sits closer to Jaebum. It gets pretty chilly at night. “I just wanted to get out.”

 

Jaebum wordlessly pulls him even closer and wraps an arm around him. Bambam sighs contently and sinks in as far as he can into the warmth, appreciating the slow and gentle caress along his side. It’s getting colder and colder, the more he stays outside and lets the wind blow and settle deep into his bones. But for some reason, the contrast between the chilly night air and the warmth seeping from Jaebum’s palms makes him feel alive. He feels more awake than ever, more so than at the boom of the party. It’s quieter here, and Bambam can hear himself think loud and clear, without interference.

 

His eyes stray from the river, drifting to look up at Jaebum. His heart skips a beat, as it always does whenever he finds that Jaebum has already been looking at him. Bambam silently hopes that he’ll never get used to it. He wants to always feel this way.

 

“You never stop, do you?” Bambam asks quietly. He almost thinks that Jaebum didn’t hear him, but the life in his eyes say otherwise.

 

“Stop what?”

 

“Stop looking at me.”

 

And somehow, Jaebum knows what he means. “Do you want me to?” Bambam shakes his head. “Well, it’s not like I could even if I wanted to,” Jaebum smiles distantly.

 

Bambam wants to ask more, maybe in a less cryptic way if he’s courageous enough, but the wind picks up and the shiver that rips through his frame cuts off any following train of thought.

 

“You’re shaking,” Jaebum frowns. “That’s enough for a day, right? I’ll take you home.”

 

Bambam doesn’t want to go home. He knows the party won’t break up that soon. “No.”

 

“I don’t want you to get sick. I didn’t bring a jacket – I didn’t plan for you wanting to go out so late.”

 

Bambam pulls on an upset face. He sighs in the next second, “Fine. Take me home.”

 

Jaebum pulls him up to his feet and leads him to the car by the hand.

 

“ _Your_ home,” Bambam clarifies the moment Jaebum’s hand is on the gearshift. He can see the hesitance in that pause, but Jaebum doesn’t say anything else and drives.

 

When they arrive, Bambam helps himself to a steaming hot shower and casually goes into Jaebum’s closet to pick out some clothes to borrow. He trades places with Jaebum on the bed, happily plopping down on the sheets while Jaebum gets up to take a shower as well. He plays with his phone, lying on his stomach. There’s already some snapchat stories of him blowing out his candles and getting his face smashed with cake. He smiles and replays some of them, covering his face and kicking his feet when he sees the videos of him and Jaebum. Most of his other friends have never seen Jaebum before, only hearing about him occasionally. But they don’t ask any questions; they just give them the usual smirks anyone would get from showing off their new partner for the first time.

 

Although he’s slightly embarrassed, Bambam still takes screenshots of the two of them kissing. He thinks they’re cute. Sue him.

 

In a bit, Jaebum joins him in bed as well. Bambam shows him the pictures, and gleefully shoves it in his face when Jaebum too, gets a little pink.

 

“Look at you,” Bambam teases. “You look so possessive of me – gripping me so tight around my waist like that!”

 

Jaebum splutters, getting redder by the second as he can see exactly what Bambam is pointing out.

 

“Gee, imagine how worse it’ll look if you ever get jealous.”

 

“Why would I get jealous?”

 

“Who knows? I’m pretty cute, you know. A lot of people have confessed to me,” Bambam says jokingly. He’s used to receiving scoffs of disbelief so the fact that Jaebum’s eyes visibly sharpens takes him by surprise.

 

“Who?”

 

“Would you even know them if I told you?”

 

Jaebum lowers, “You’re mine.”

 

Bambam blinks at him, and then stifles a laugh. God, Jaebum looks so angry, the tightness of his face even worse than when Bambam used to think Jaebum could pass for a mafia boss. And angry from what? An imagined scenario of someone else professing their romantic interest towards Bambam?

 

“You’re going to get wrinkles, old man.” Bambam smoothens out Jaebum’s forehead. Jaebum grunts, and Bambam can tell he’s just making a fuss. “You know better than this. You know I like you.”

 

And like magic, Jaebum’s mood turns upside down, a smile inching up on his face.

 

Bambam decides to humor him, and says it again. “I like you.” The smile gets wider. “I _really_ like you.” He plants a sloppy smooch on Jaebum’s cheekbone, flipping over on his back with a big “oomph!” when Jaebum tackles him with a searing kiss on his lips. Jaebum breaks it off with a satisfied smile and makes the motion to lie back, but Bambam whines and reaches up, throwing a leg over his hips.

 

“You can’t just give me _one_ when I’ve confessed _thrice_!”

 

“I thought you said I always go overboard.”

 

“Well, make an exception!” Bambam squeezes his eyes and puckers up. He waits expectedly, smiling inwardly when he can feel Jaebum hovering over him, inching closer. However, a hand squeezes both of his cheeks instead, and he snaps his eyes open to glare at Jaebum through his fish-face. “Hey!” He attempts to shout.

 

Jaebum laughs, squishing his face further while Bambam swats at the offending hand. “Sorry, I’m a man of my word.”

 

“Screw your word – just!” Bambam flails around, escaping Jaebum’s hold and flipping them over so that he lies on top of Jaebum, elbows propping up his torso. “Hold still, hyung.” Bambam makes his descend quickly, but Jaebum doesn’t hold still like he’s supposed to, instead lifting his head upwards automatically – until they bump foreheads.

 

“Ah!” They chorus, clutching their aching foreheads.

 

“Hyung! I told you to hold still!”

 

“Why didn’t you aim?!”

 

“I did!”

 

“ _You_ hold still, you horrible kisser.”

 

Before Bambam can protest, Jaebum cups his cheek and kisses him, firmly, tenderly. He playfully nibbles on Bambam’s bottom lip, soothing them afterwards with little licks that have Bambam sighing into his mouth, the sweet sound urging him to sink a little deeper, get a little closer. His hands travel down to Bambam’s waist, where they rest comfortably like a second home. They kiss lazily for a while, turning on their sides and letting the mere proximity of their lips do all the work. It’s a natural push and pull, a pendulum of tasting and giving.

 

Bambam’s hand slides under Jaebum’s shirt, and that’s all it takes for a switch to flip.

 

First comes the hesitant and almost ghostly touch, the barest of fingertips making contact with Jaebum’s skin. And after getting over the initial shyness, it’s the need to feel more that leads his hand to travel up and around his ribcage to trace along the taut muscles of his broad back. When Jaebum finally reciprocates his boldness, he takes up to a whole new level by riding Bambam’s shirt all the way up, only stopping when the material bunches up under his arms. Jaebum’s hand rests on his soft stomach, where he rubs little circles on it until he suddenly brings it up to Bambam’s chest.

 

The first rub of Jaebum’s thumb on his nipple has Bambam gasping in shock, breaking the kiss when he was in the middle of dragging his tongue over Jaebum’s. His fingers dig into Jaebum’s back on reflex, and he instantly dives into the crook of Jaebum’s neck to hide his reddening face. He’s embarrassed of how responsive he is – he’s acting like a total virgin, which he is, but it doesn’t mean that he wants to be so _obvious_ about it. Bambam kisses along the column of Jaebum’s neck to distract himself, to find some sort of clearing in the midst of the new and tingling sensation of Jaebum’s hands on him. The hands on his body stop for a moment but come into action again once it’s clear that Bambam isn’t moving away. In fact, he’s inching forward, pressing into the touch, and mimicking the motions of Jaebum’s hands with his tongue. Bambam nips on his skin and briefly wonders if it’ll look like a flower later, purple, like his favorite color.

 

Jaebum tilts his head up by his chin, forcing his eyes to tear away from the artwork he’s left behind and straight into the darkness of his eyes behind damp hair.

 

And Bambam stares back through half-lidded eyes, sharing the same kind of haze, lashes fluttering once, twice. Between the sensitive touch of Jaebum’s firm, careful hands and the tightening heat between his legs, Bambam knows.

 

He knows. _He wants it_.

 

Bambam wets his lips and parts his mouth without any prompting, closing his eyes and melting in his hyung’s embrace. Jaebum wouldn’t hurt him. Not now. Not ever. And that’s _absolute_.

 

Jaebum stares down at Bambam with an ache, a deep pang in his ever-expanding heart. Vines snake around his veins and poison his blood with bottomless desire, and the thunder of his pulse washes away the voice in his head. Thorns prickle at his lungs, enough to hurt and render him breathless, but not sharp enough to end him right then and there. It’s slow and blistering all at once, the burn that resonates deep within him as he looks into the depiction of temptation itself, all sprawled out and easy in his tense hands. The red flowers that are always blooming in his chest, beautiful, now overwhelm him as he sees it in the red of Bambam’s bitten lips, in the red of the dipped skin beneath his fingers, and in the red of his satin sheets. His body moves on its own accord, hands lacing Bambam’s and raising them above his head to pin him down on the bed. And when he takes that senseless fall to capture that sweet mouth with his own, the sweetness of their connection is devastating.

 

Bambam lets him ravage whatever he wants, from sucking on his tongue and dragging his lip to swallowing his moans. The more they exchange heated kisses, the more Bambam arcs up into Jaebum, breathing heavily and shivering with lust. Bambam curls his fingers into his hyung’s hair and pulls, humming at the grunt that he receives. It’s so hot – but he doesn’t want to get away he just – needs to get his clothes off.

 

But Jaebum is relentless and imposing, barely giving him any time to catch a breath, always coming in for more at his fast pace as if he was drunk on just the softness, the wetness of his lips. Bambam can’t do anything about his arms because Jaebum is strong when he wants to be, and even with some wiggling, he can’t seem to release himself from Jaebum’s iron grip. So when the heat gets too much and his body is screaming for _more_ , Bambam raises his leg and slips it in between Jaebum’s, thigh rubbing against his hard cock.

 

The pleasure is electric – Jaebum groans, his eyes snapping open to reveal dilated pupils. He stares past Bambam for a moment, the shock of his arousal hitting him hard. When his eyes finally focus on Bambam, his face contorts to one of conflict. It’s as if he’s been broken from a spell, and the return back to reality has him clenching his jaw, squeezing his chest. He slowly loosens his grip on Bambam, and Bambam watches in confusion as he bites his lip in frustration after a glance at the moon on his wrist.

 

Jaebum sits up, lowering Bambam’s leg away from him with a gentle yet quivering hand.

 

“I think…we should stop. I’m…I can’t hold back if we go any further.”

 

Bambam rises from the bed, and the frustration is mirrored on his face. “Why are we stopping?” His heart pounds after the words leave his mouth – because it’s crazy. It’s crazy how he can be so confident about them in one moment and then completely unsure in the next. He knows that he was the one to tell Jaebum he wasn’t ready almost two months ago, but he had completely forgotten to consider what Jaebum thinks of it as well. Maybe this time, it’s Jaebum who isn’t ready, and he shouldn’t be so pushy about it. It’s not about Bambam. It’s about Bambam _and_ Jaebum.

 

Jaebum looks at him, and says, “You told me you weren’t ready. I don’t want to pressure you just because you know I want you.”

 

Bambam relaxes. “Hyung,” he whispers. “I’m ready.”

 

Jaebum’s eyes widen, his body going frigid.

 

“Jaebum hyung…” Bambam smiles softly, overlapping one of Jaebum’s hands, which are tightly fisting the sheets. “Earlier, I asked you to let me see the stars. There weren’t any, though.” Jaebum doesn’t say anything, just looks at him in wonder and incredulity.

 

“Why don’t you _make_ me see them, hyung?”

 

Jaebum’s breath hitches when Bambam brings his hand over to his lower stomach, guiding their hands together so that they dip just slightly past the band of Bambam’s boxers. Bambam waits for him to respond, chewing on his lip nervously.

 

“…Are you sure?” Jaebum croaks, voice incredibly strained. He looks at Bambam unbelievingly, but his eyes shine with hope and affection.

 

Bambam nods once and fights the blush as he moves their hands down even further, where Jaebum can feel the beginning of his hair. “I’m sure. I want you, hyung.” He leaves Jaebum’s hand in his pants but removes his own, leaning up to loop his arms around Jaebum’s neck and press a simple and chaste kiss at the corner of his lips. “ _Touch me_.”

 

Jaebum’s mouth falls open, and then he swallows thickly, giving Bambam’s body a once-over. He looks into Bambam’s eyes and is stunned into silence. He’s serious.

 

“Okay,” Jaebum exhales. “Okay.”

 

They remove their shirts, and while Jaebum quickly disposes of his pants, he insists on slowly peeling off Bambam’s. Bambam resists the urge to cover up as Jaebum stares at every inch of him openly, eyes sharp and keen on his tan skin. They both still have their undergarments on, but Bambam already feels so bare. Still, he admires Jaebum from below, eyes travelling from his toned, hard chest to his thick, strong thighs. His body – Bambam sighs – is just a work of art. Every part of him is attractive and masculine.

 

Jaebum runs his hands up Bambam’s long legs, starting from his ankles all the way up to his thighs. Then he goes up to kiss him slowly, hands on his hips. When their chests touch, bodies pulled flush together, Bambam gasps at the new feeling of skin on skin. It’s different. It feels a hundred – a thousand times more intimate than all the other times they’ve spent cuddling and playing around on the couch with their clothes on. Like this, he can truly feel the entire plane of Jaebum’s body. The heat and sweat making their skin stick together, the rise and fall of their chests, the way Jaebum will sometimes rub against his hardening nipples as he bites on Bambam’s collarbone, the race of their heartbeats as the arousal and excitement of their long-awaited yearning for each other comes to fruition – it’s felt all at once, and it’s so intense just like this that Bambam is overwhelmed by his heightened senses.

 

Jaebum places wet, bruising kisses all over his chest, and Bambam pants as he watches the predatory and satisfied look in his eyes as he marks his claim all over Bambam. Bambam throws his head back when Jaebum suddenly brings his mouth over one of his hardened buds, sucking gently and swirling around it with his tongue. Lost in the pleasure, Bambam unconsciously spreads his legs to accommodate Jaebum better and ruts upwards against his hyung. The pressure on his straining cock feels good enough to choke him, eliciting a breathy moan as he grinds his hips on Jaebum.

 

“ _Jesus_ ,” Jaebum groans, quivering at the sight of Bambam’s sinful body losing control and glistening in sweat. “B-baby,” he chokes as Bambam licks his full lips, sliding down so that he grinds on Jaebum’s bulge as well. Jaebum hisses in pleasure, a fire set ablaze down south. He clenches his fist tightly, nearly biting his tongue as he watches Bambam’s eyes squeeze shut, squeaky and needy little breaths escaping his mouth. A drop of sweat rolls down his neck as he lolls his head to the side, and Jaebum immediately laps it up, tracing its path upwards and ending with a soft kiss on his ear.

 

“ _Baby_ ,” Jaebum rumbles against his ear. The sound is so rough and commanding that Bambam’s hips stutter in its motion and his eyes open to look at his fiery gaze. “ _I’ll_ touch you.” Jaebum scoots down and grabs onto the back of his knees, spreading him wide in one swift motion. Bambam’s cheeks redden at his obscene position, all on display for Jaebum to see. His hands fly up to cover his face, but Jaebum catches one of his wrists quickly. “Don’t be shy,” he says gently and soothes him with a kiss. “I want to see all of you. I want to hear all the sounds you make.”

 

Bambam shivers as Jaebum peppers feathery kisses on his inner thigh, starting off light and airy and then transitioning into nips with his teeth as he travels downwards. When he gets dangerously close to his crotch, he lingers at the soft, tender skin and sucks large, blossoming bruises. Bambam’s leg twitches in his grip, tense from the mix of pain and pleasure. As Bambam looks down, the image of Jaebum’s head between his legs has his cock aching with need, desperate for attention.

 

“Hyung…” Bambam whines.

 

And that’s when Jaebum lets himself see it, the damp spot in Bambam’s boxers where he’s aching and throbbing, where he’s leaking precum and using all his self-control to be still for Jaebum and to not buck into the air seeking friction. Jaebum lets go of one of his legs and strokes his thumb along Bambam’s hipbone instead. He spares Bambam one heated glance before plunging down and mouthing along the wet spot, using his tongue to apply pressure on the tip of his clothed cock. Jaebum pushes his hips down before Bambam can even snap them up out of reflex.

 

“J-Jaebum hyung!”

 

Bambam feels like a mess, and he wants to cry as Jaebum noses up and down his length but refuses to give him what he _needs_. “Hyung, _please_.” Jaebum ignores him, and now he’s got a hand groping his little butt from behind, another hand massaging and squeezing his balls. Bambam sinks into the bed helplessly, biting his bottom lip. He continues to pant erratically, arching his back and clutching at the pillow above him. Sweat along his hairline causes parts of his bangs to stick to his forehead.

 

After another minute of ruthless teasing, Jaebum rises up to his knees, looking over Bambam. They both hold their breaths as Jaebum finally pulls on the band of Bambam’s underwear. He pauses, making sure to look up at Bambam for consent. Bambam, though growing soft with affection for his hyung, can’t _believe_ he would still ask for permission when he’s already said yes. Bambam nods firmly – and moans when he’s finally free of his boxers, hard cock springing forward and up towards his belly. His precum slides down his slit, and Bambam can’t even find it within himself to feel embarrassed about the lewdness of his spread legs and pink cock, twitching, aching, and just so _wet_.

 

Jaebum’s mouth goes completely dry.

 

“ _Bam_ …” He says breathlessly, swallowing thickly and eyes sweeping over Bambam’s entire naked body in its most vulnerable form. “Baby, you’re so beautiful.”

 

Surprisingly, that’s what gets Bambam’s eyes to widen, for his lust-driven cloud to clear and to feel the depth of their intimacy. He can only stare back into Jaebum’s shaking pupils with his own speechless awe.

 

“Bambam…”

 

Jaebum’s hand wraps around the base of his cock. But they still only have eyes for each other.

 

“You’re so, _so_ beautiful.”

 

The furrow of his eyebrows, the glistening of his eyes as he gasps it out painfully as if the emotion is physically hurting him – makes Bambam feel like he’s saying something else.

 

Jaebum pumps him once, smearing the precum down his length and slicking up his hand. Bambam’s back to being gone, short-circuiting and forgetting everything behind Jaebum’s words.

 

Jaebum flicks his wrist hard and fast – and it’s too much for Bambam after all that time he spent building up the heat and holding back. Bambam trembles and moans loudly, his mouth open and drool falling from the corner of his lips. He feels his abdomen tightening at an alarming rate and scrambles to find any purchase on the bed, be it the sheets or the pillow. But suddenly, Jaebum lets go, and Bambam has to suck in a sharp breath to keep himself sane. Through try as he may, Bambam would have never been prepared for the next thing: Jaebum squeezing tightly around the base of his cock and dipping his tongue into the slit.

 

Bambam flies up into a sitting position, choking from a suppressed moan as his hyung goes down on him skillfully, hotly. Jaebum sucks long and hard with hollowed cheeks, at a pace that Bambam can’t keep up with. He’s rendered down to just whimpering in intense pleasure, hips bucking up into Jaebum’s hot mouth. It’s wet, soft, and _good_ , a new sensation he’s never felt before and it’s wrecking him from the inside out. Bambam looks down and catches the sight of his cock disappearing into Jaebum’s throat repeatedly and groans, a hand cradling Jaebum’s head and fisting his hair.

 

“H-hyung, I…” Bambam pants, his eyes rolling back at the feeling of Jaebum swallowing him and licking along his shaft. Saliva and precum wets Jaebum’s reddening lips, and Bambam whines, trying to get away. It’s too much. He’ll come. “Jaebum hyung, stop! I-I’ll come – I don’t want to yet.”

 

Jaebum reluctantly pulls off, but not without kissing his tip while maintaining eye contact.

 

“I want you to fuck me,” Bambam cups his cheek.

 

He tastes himself on his tongue when Jaebum kisses him softly, a startling contrast of the tempo he had set up.

 

“Okay.”

 

Jaebum gets up to yank open his bedside drawer, hastily grabbing the lube and a condom. Bambam follows him with his eyes – and belatedly realizes that Jaebum is still huge and hard in his briefs. He’s done nothing but be on the receiving end this entire time, and Bambam feels disappointed in himself for not noticing earlier. He wants to touch Jaebum too, and make him feel as good as he did for Bambam.

 

Bambam makes room for Jaebum to settle between his legs – but first, he curls a finger into Jaebum’s briefs and yanks it down. The sight has him shivering both in awe and anxiety. Jaebum is big and thick – which is impressive, but a prick of doubt settles within him whether or not he can _fit_ Jaebum inside him. He doesn’t think he’s ever stretched himself that wide before, even when he had time to be experimental about his body.

 

Jaebum brushes his cheek with the back of his hand and kisses him again. Momentarily, his worries melt away. They kiss languidly, eliciting sweet sighs while Jaebum – Bambam realizes after – warms up the lube in his hands.

 

The first touch of Jaebum’s finger against his rim is warm, which is what ironically gave him a shock because he was expecting that cold, shuddering lube against his ass and waking him up in a distasteful way. From this alone, Bambam marvels at Jaebum. He really, really is experienced…a man who knows how to pleasure his partner.

 

He pushes in slightly, just past the ring of muscle. After a bit of circling around and wetting the surface with more lube, he slides in all the way. Bambam tries not to wince, keeping his face purposefully still as he forces himself to relax. Honestly, Bambam was never too fond of fingering himself when masturbating; it always felt like too much work and not enough payoff, and he could never reach _that_ spot by himself with the angle that he usually placed himself in. On top of that, it’s been a while since he’s done it, so he’s ridiculously tight, and the intrusion feels foreign to him again.

 

Jaebum slowly moves his finger in and out of Bambam while distracting him with deep kisses, which Bambam is grateful for. The comfort of their lips moving together is familiar and helps him focus on licking into Jaebum’s mouth and breathing through his nose rather than the finger inside him.

 

“Another one?” Jaebum asks gently.

 

Bambam nods, shifting to spread himself wider. Jaebum carefully slips in a second finger, waiting for Bambam to get used to it. When his face visibly relaxes, Jaebum thrusts his fingers into him in a slow pace. It feels better now, and Bambam sighs.

 

“You’re so tight,” Jaebum whispers, closing his eyes. The suction of Bambam on his fingers and the feeling of his tight, hot walls have him leaking and throbbing, wondering how good he’ll feel on his painfully hard cock. He’s been denying himself of his own pleasure for a while now, and the feeling of thrusting in and out of Bambam has his resolve crumbling fast. He feels desperate, speeding up the jerk of his wrist and scissoring Bambam open.

 

Bambam pants over Jaebum’s mouth, no longer kissing him anymore. Though neither of them really notice, completely lost in each other as Bambam begins to respond to Jaebum’s fingers with mewls and gasps. Bambam pushes back into his fingers, arching his body beautifully. Jaebum hastily inserts a third, watching Bambam’s undoing with rapt attention.

 

“ _Ah_ … _hyung_ …”

 

“ _Baby_ …” Jaebum rasps. The squelching of the lube slipping in and out of Bambam’s hole fills the room loud and clear. Suddenly, Jaebum curls his fingers up towards a particular spot and Bambam’s entire body quakes, a choked gasp causing his eyes to snap open and a deep flush to appear on his cheeks. Jaebum freezes, staring blearily at Bambam as an unbearable heat shoots down his groin.

 

“ _Jaebum_!”

 

 _Amazing_.

 

Jaebum wants to see it again, wants to hear Bambam again.

 

He studies everything about Bambam – his erotic pleasured face, his scorching tan skin, his small and slim lines, his pretty, wet cock, his tight, heavenly ass. Everything. He wants to know everything about Bambam and wants to be the only one to hold these secrets. He wants Bambam to be his.

 

When Jaebum hits his prostate with his fingers a third time, Bambam jerks up with a cry, his arms blindly winding up and finding Jaebum’s neck and hair. He looks up at Jaebum through his lashes mistily.

 

“ _Hyung._ ”

 

Jaebum has never heard a sound so sweet.

 

But as Jaebum pulls his eyes away from working Bambam loose, something strikes his gut with a crushing weight. He stares back at Bambam and sees pleasure, but most of all, unadulterated trust. He suddenly can’t breathe anymore, the plundering realization starting from deep in his heart then spreading to every fiber of his being. He can barely register Bambam reaching for the condom on the bed and placing it into his palm.

 

Bambam looks at him sweetly, almost smiling as his chest heaves up and down beneath Jaebum. He feels good – more importantly, he feels happy, and ready. He never thought sex could be this good and this intense. He feels like he’s blossoming and he’s so glad that he’s decided to give his everything to Jaebum. Or rather, maybe sex feels this good because it’s _Jaebum_ that’s his undoing. No one else could come close to what Jaebum does to him.

 

Bambam waits for him to put the condom on, to place the head of his cock at his entrance and fill him up.

 

When it doesn’t come even after a while, Bambam questioningly lifts his torso up with an elbow. Then, he sees Jaebum’s hands shaking as he struggles to open the wrapper.

 

Bambam would tease him, but the concentrated and pensive look on his face doesn’t seem right.

 

After a beat, he places both of his hands on Jaebum’s, steadying him.

 

“Hyung?” Bambam asks. “Why are you shaking?”

 

“Sorry.” Jaebum runs his fingers through his hair nervously. “I – I don’t know why – I’m not usually like this – it’s –!”

 

“Hyung, calm down,” Bambam frowns worriedly. “What’s wrong?”

 

Jaebum stays quiet, so Bambam attempts to soothe him with a light, chaste kiss on his cheek. He continues to do it until Jaebum holds his hand back.

 

“…I want to make this good for you,” he says quietly.

 

Confused, Bambam replies, “You are, hyung.” Then, “Are you…worried you’ll hurt me?”

 

“I – yes…I just…want to protect you. You look at me like you feel safest in my arms. And while that makes me happy, it also frightens me. I don’t know how I’ve managed to gain your trust, which means I also have no idea what I might do to _lose you_. And that…” Jaebum swallows.

 

Bambam cradles Jaebum into his chest, where he knows Jaebum can hear his heartbeat. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. I’m yours, remember? I trust you because you treat me preciously. The fact that you’re overthinking this means that you’d _never_ intentionally hurt me.”

 

He takes the condom from Jaebum and easily rips the wrapper, rolling it onto Jaebum.

 

“C’mon hyung. Here’s your chance to prove it. Show me you’ll never hurt me, even at my weakest. Give me reason to trust you.”

 

Bambam pulls him forward, lining his rim with Jaebum. He pushes against the head, breath hitching as it slips inside. He looks at his hyung and waits.

 

Jaebum lets out a final exhale, the tension in his shoulders easing up. He looks at Bambam and finds strength in his sincere eyes, nodding, and pushing into Bambam until he bottoms out. He groans at the tight heat of Bambam’s walls, the relentless suction of his insides. Bambam moans and collapses back onto the bed, unable to think with the incredible sensation of Jaebum filling him up to the brim, stretching him taut. Jaebum starts moving first, grinding in slow, tantalizing circles and then making shallow thrusts, careful not to go too hard. With a needy whine, Bambam wraps his legs around Jaebum and forces him to go deeper by digging his heels into his back. He bucks his hips in time with Jaebum, enjoying the delicious drag of Jaebum’s cock on his red rim.

 

“Jaebum!” Bambam claws his back as Jaebum picks up the pace, piercing him over and over with the kind of tenacity that forces them to slide up the satin sheets. His black hair pools around his head on the pillow save for the few strands that stick to his sweaty, scrunched up face. He becomes less and less aware of how loud he’s being and what it does to Jaebum’s pulsing hardness.

 

The sounds of their fucking is wet and deafening, groans and names filling the room in time with the slap of skin in every hard thrust. Jaebum leans forward and starts an open-mouthed kiss with Bambam, more tongue and dirty moans than anything else. Bambam’s pretty cock bounces between their stomachs, pink and leaking once more.

 

Bambam can feel the pressure building up in his balls and it’s a familiar pleasure, only a hundred times more intense.

 

Jaebum grabs one of his legs mid-thrust and lifts it over his shoulder so that when he pistols in with a snap of his hips, the new angle has Bambam’s jaw dropping in a silent scream as it hits his prostate hard. He releases a sound that is a mix between a whine and a shout, his body quivering at the force of his pleasure. He constricts around Jaebum, who stutters and hisses at the tightness.

 

“ _Yes_ …hyung _right there_ …!”

 

Thrilled and finding confidence in Bambam’s explicit pleasure, Jaebum pants and rocks against him mercilessly. He pushes inside his heat hard and fast, making sure to hit his sweet spot each time deeper than the last. Their mindless rutting feels like it could last forever.

 

But of course, it doesn’t take long for Bambam to tumble over the edge with a sharp cry and an even sharper dig of his nails into Jaebum’s back. He comes hard, breathlessly. His body tenses as he shoots his come messily over their chests, white drops splattering onto the sheets. His legs tremble weakly around Jaebum as he arches from his orgasm. Bambam’s eyes squeeze tightly together, and the phosphenes behind his lids look like twinkling white stars.

 

Jaebum fucks him through his high, but messily so because he’s just as close and the convulsing clench of Bambam’s ass on his sheathed cock overwhelms him into a sudden release not long after Bambam. He grunts and sloppily thrusts into Bambam as his hot seed fills up the condom. Bambam whines from sensitivity beneath him but doesn’t push him away when he rides it out. He collapses on top of Bambam, both of them breathing heavily and minds cloudy from the intensity of their orgasms.

 

When they’ve rested enough to recover, Jaebum pulls out and removes the condom, tying it up and tossing it to the side. Bambam lets out a small squeak, mystified by the empty feeling of his now gaping hole. Jaebum cleans him up with tissues quietly. He looks up, catching Bambam’s eyes, and – the flowers.

 

They bloom again.

 

Bambam smiles up at him in this soft and beautiful glow, arms reaching out to him.

 

Jaebum is weak, flawed man. What is he to do but crawl towards the light of his life, irresistible and sugar sweet?

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /peeps out from behind a wall... Yes...hullo...it is I...the bastard who said they'd update within a week but it's been two weeks...haha...ha... OTL sORRY I should just stop making promises I can't keep laskghsla I overestimated myself LOL. But??? Ta-da??? It's kinda longer than my usual chapters??? Wow, what a saving grace!!
> 
> Anyway, oh my god this chapter was SO hard to write, mainly because I was a wuss about the porn and kept wanting to postpone it LOL It's my first time writing something explicit so I hope it was okay. ((((((IDK HOW Y'ALL SMUT WRITERS DO IT??? ASDDGHALSKL HELP))))) Funny tidbit tho: I've been calling that section the "Soft Stick" and because I clearly hate myself and plan for things I can't actually do, there's obviously going to be tHe HARD STICK!! /coughs. Cause uhm, babydoll. /sweats.
> 
> And in case anyone thought I was crazy, I'm pretty sure(???????) that a bunch of 5's is the equivalent of LOL in Thai.
> 
> Thank you so much for waiting and looking forward to new chapters! Your support and feedback are incredibly encouraging and I woN'T eVER SHUT UP aBOUT hOW GRATEFUL I AM!!!!!! /throws heart confetti everywhere. See you next time! I'm off to hell! (Uh, school. Fucking physics. I hate physics. Why do I even.)


	7. is it me, is it him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Implied Sexual Content (ehhHHhhHH it'll probably be the norm from now on so.)

 

 

Some time between night and dawn, Bambam wakes up slowly to the shifting of Jaebum beneath his body as he reaches for the vibrating phone on the nightstand. Jaebum groggily turns the alarm off, sitting up and accidentally letting the blankets fall off his shoulders, where it was once tucked into both Jaebum and Bambam. Bambam lets out a small whimper at the loss of heat and moves closer to Jaebum, half asleep and eyes closed. He feels the warm blanket drawing up to his neck again, and sighs contently as Jaebum slips right back into the space left just for him, already outlined with the shape of his body. Jaebum holds him tightly and Bambam nuzzles into his chest as if he wasn’t already impossibly close.

 

Jaebum probably spent a long time just staring down at the crown of his black hair, at the shape of his lips and the way his cheek is squished adorably on his bare chest. But Bambam wouldn’t know any of that. He’s already breathing slowly and softly out of his nose, sinking back into his deep slumber.

 

-

 

Bambam wakes up a second time many hours later, lashes stuck together with sleep and dust. He rubs at his eyes lethargically and blinks distantly at the sight of Jaebum’s brightly lit room. The sun is peeking in from the gap between the curtains and creates a band of light on the red sheets. Bambam goes back and forth between the thought of getting up and going back to sleep, but in the end, it’s the uncomfortable feeling of being too warm and dirty that prompts him to sit up while stifling a yawn. It takes a while for everything to catch up, but eventually he starts to feel the slight soreness on his bottom and lower back. It’s not painful though, and it’s probably expected. Bambam hasn’t done anything that strenuous to his hips since…ever.

 

After taking a glance at Jaebum’s peaceful sleeping face and being cautious to not wake him up, Bambam twists over to the side and lifts the blanket up to check himself. He does a quick swipe between his cheeks and – okay. Clean. No blood, unlike all those horror stories he’s read online about their horrible partners. It doesn’t feel bad for him to be moving around either. If anything, it just feels like one of those days when he’s danced too much with Yugyeom at his studio and wakes up the next morning with his muscles all sore. He hates it when that happens, and Yugyeom probably does too, since he’s prone to whining about how sore he is all day long. But this – he blushes a little – this is different. It’s a different kind of ache. Kind of like…a reminder.

 

“Are you okay?” Jaebum’s voice, rough with sleep, comes out of nowhere. Bambam’s heart jumps in surprise, and when he whips his head around to look at Jaebum, he finds himself feeling shy all of a sudden. He looks down, but that just earns him a nice view of Jaebum’s bare chest so he has to stare at the blanket instead. Bambam tries to subtly pull the blanket to cover up, but it’s obvious that the movement is going to attract attention.

 

Bambam completely forgets to answer the question as he focuses on willing his blush down. It allows for Jaebum to take his silence the wrong way, face twisting in guilt as he leans his forehead against Bambam’s back and wraps an arm tentatively around his middle.

 

“I’m sorry, it shouldn’t have to hurt…I’ll be better, I promise.”

 

“Huh?” Bambam snaps his head up, eyes wide. “Oh – no, hyung, don’t be sorry! I’m fine! I just…it’s just new to me, is all.” He turns around and smoothens the creases on Jaebum’s forehead, giving it a quick peck before smiling reassuringly. Bambam makes sure to keep it close-lipped, distancing himself swiftly. His morning breath is most likely less than pleasant.

 

Jaebum relaxes and smiles back. Suddenly, he sweeps his arm beneath the blanket and hooks it underneath Bambam’s knees, scooping him up into his lap. Bambam lets out an attractive squawk, hands flying to find anything to hide behind. Finding nothing, Bambam fights against the urge to cover his face. Jaebum had mentioned that he didn’t like it when Bambam did that – said he wanted to see everything, or whatever. But it’s really hard to stay calm like this, sitting on top of Jaebum when they’re both completely bare.

 

“Okay. That’s good.” Jaebum gently presses at his lower back, and Bambam is surprised to find that the pressure actually feels kind of nice. “You’re probably still tired, right?”

 

Bambam nods slowly. Maybe he is? He’s not really sure if he would categorize this feeling as heavy as being tiring, though. “It’s normal, right?” He asks without thinking.

 

Bambam can see the exact moment Jaebum’s smile becomes frozen. And that’s when he remembers. He’s never really _told_ Jaebum why it took them so long to get this far. Jaebum’s probably thought that he wanted the relationship to develop more before taking this step together, but there’s a little more to the story than that.

 

“Normal…?” Jaebum stares at him hard in the eye, and Bambam can almost see the whirlwind storming up in his mind. “…You said something about it being new, too…”

 

Bambam smiles lopsidedly, eyes darting to the side. “Ha…about that…”

 

“Bambam.” There’s a hint of panic behind that tone.

 

“I mean, it’s not _that_ important or anything but uh…you’re my first?”

 

“I’m your first?” Jaebum repeats after him mindlessly. Bambam waits for it. And sure enough –

 

“ _I’M YOUR FIRST_?!”

 

Bambam winces, almost falling out of Jaebum’s lap with the volume of his shout. He clears his throat, “Well…” Should he go with _ta-da_ , or _congratulations_? “Ta-da!” He wiggles his fingers festively. Jaebum doesn’t seem very amused – in fact, he seems to be getting more and more distressed by the second.

 

“ _I’m your first_?”

 

“Yeah – how many times do you have to repeat it?”

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” Jaebum looks at him exasperatedly.

 

“I didn’t think it was a big deal,” Bambam says honestly. Then, with his own realization and source of exasperation, “Wait – did you think I was experienced or something?!”

 

“I – I didn’t _think_?” Wow, that sure sounds smart.

 

“Well then, think about it. I just turned twenty-one, and you’re my first serious relationship, let alone first boyfriend!”

 

Jaebum splutters – “You could have fooled around or something, I don’t know! I was sixteen when I first had sex.”

 

“Sixteen!” Bambam’s eyes bulge out. He thinks back to when he was sixteen, with a little pink tuft of hair bouncing around in Thailand and still watching Doraemon. “Damn.”

 

“I’m not proud of that or anything but,” Jaebum rubs his temples and groans, “oh my god. It’s been so long and I’m at that point in my age where all the people I’ve been with have had experience one way or another.”

 

“Oh,” Bambam says quietly. It must be disappointing to find out that Bambam doesn’t know much. He can try and read or watch porn all he wants, but nothing really beats first-hand experience. And now, hearing that from Jaebum just affirms his insecurity. He’s not a very good partner right now; take last night for example. Bambam doesn’t recall doing anything good for Jaebum and he _really_ wants to, but he doesn’t know how –

 

“Hey, hey,” Jaebum lifts up his face. “Why the sad look? If it’s about me getting around – I’ve never been with anyone after I met you. And I never will.”

 

Bambam shakes his head. “Not that – I know that. I’m just sorry I can’t live up to your expectations.”

 

It takes a moment for Jaebum to connect the dots. “Baby, that’s not why I reacted the way I did. You’re right in one aspect – it _isn’t_ a big deal. I don’t care what you can or cannot do; I don’t have any expectations at all because all that matters is that I get to _be_ with you.”

 

Bambam doesn’t look too convinced.

 

Jaebum sighs. “I’m mad that I didn’t know you were a virgin because if I did…I would’ve made the effort to make it more special for you.”

 

Bambam raises an eyebrow, and Jaebum purses his lips.

 

“You know…dinner and flowers…rose petals on the bed…candles… _something_.”

 

Bambam bursts out in laughter at that, ignoring Jaebum’s grumble and embarrassed face. He swats at his hyung’s shoulder, “That’s so _cheesy_ – I can’t believe you!”

 

“What’s wrong with that?” Jaebum says defiantly.

 

“Nothing.” But once the imagery hits him, he laughs again. “Oh hyung, I don’t need any of that! How many romantic movies have you been watching?”

 

“I prefer reading,” Jaebum huffs petulantly.

 

“Sure, sure.” Bambam grins, poking his staged angry face. “It would’ve been special with or without the flowers and candles. And it really was. Because it’s you, hyung. _You_ make it special for me. I don’t need anything fancy.”

 

He can tell that Jaebum is leaning in for a kiss, so his tilts his head back, avoiding it. “No,” Bambam scrunches up his nose. “We stink.”

 

“It won’t be so bad,” Jaebum pushes forward.

 

“No.”

 

“C’mere.”

 

“No!” Bambam says through his pursed lips, trying not to let his growing grin destroy his determination. Jaebum keeps playing with him though, leaning until Bambam has no choice but to lie on his back, smiling as he uses one hand to push Jaebum’s face the other way.

 

“It’ll be quick!”

 

“ _No_. Let’s brush up and shower instead – then you can have as many as you want.”

 

Jaebum peers through Bambam’s fingers on his face and after a pause – as if he really had to stop and weigh his options – he concedes. “Fine.” He rolls off the bed and lifts Bambam up to his feet. “But let’s take a bath. I think it’ll be good for you.”

 

So they tumble into the bathroom, where Bambam stays by the sink to brush his teeth while Jaebum goes to run the water. With his toothbrush still in his mouth, Bambam decides it’d be a good use of time to go grab some clothes for the both of them. On his way out, he falters in his step upon catching Nora staring at him at the end of the hallway. She’s just a cat, but he feels shamefully caught red-handed or something, especially since he’s just out in the nude. Her eyes don’t seem to be leaving him any time soon, so he simply makes a mad dash for the closet.

 

It’s funny how easily he can navigate through Jaebum’s massive wardrobe nowadays. He doesn’t have to think about where the comfy t-shirts are or where Jaebum keeps the extra towels. Sometimes Jaebum stares at him after an overnight stay when Bambam needs to borrow some clothes. More often than not, he murmurs about how he hasn’t seen the shirt Bambam’s wearing in years, thinking it got lost somehow. Maybe it’s a good thing Bambam digs into his closet so much – someone’s got to rotate his clothes to the front so he doesn’t end up being lazy and wearing the same thing over and over again. (There’s a Snoop Dog shirt that Bambam has seen Jaebum drop and pick up from the floor time and time again. He didn’t mind it at first, but it was starting to look like he was going to live in that if he didn’t have work to go to.)

 

Bambam lays the pile of clothes on the shelf of the dressing room and then turns back to spit out the foam into the sink. Jaebum joins him just as he’s done rinsing with water. Jaebum tells him that he can go in the tub first, but Bambam wants to wait.

 

“I might be a prune by the time you get in.”

 

Jaebum finishes up quickly, so Bambam finally gives him the kiss he’s been waiting for. They break off with sunny smiles, looking at each other with a kind of softness and spark that wasn’t always there before.

 

And speaking of sunny…

 

“What happened to the wall?!” Bambam exclaims upon opening the door. His jaw drops in shock, as what he remembers to be the wall directly in front of the door is – well – _gone_. Instead, what’s in front of him is just tinted glass, showcasing the vast view of the city from above and allowing for natural sunlight to illuminate the entire area. The drop-in Jacuzzi is running with a thick layer of bubbles, white and fluffy and incredibly inviting.

 

“Oh. That’s just…” Jaebum walks over to where a button is, pushing on the down arrow to demonstrate. There’s the sound of a machine running, so Bambam whips his head to the front again, where he watches with astonishment as the “wall” slowly slides down.

 

“ _You’re kidding_ ,” Bambam whispers, more to himself than to Jaebum. Jaebum pushes the up button so that the view appears again. “Wait a minute.” It’s too bright outside. “What time is it?”

 

“Probably…ten?”

 

“ _Ten_?” Bambam shrieks. “I missed class! And – wait, why are you still here? You always leave for work before I even wake up. I should’ve known something was wrong!”

 

“Hm…I overslept.”

 

“Clearly!” Bambam huffs. “We don’t have time for a bath, do we? It’s already so late.” What a shame. It looks so nice and hot.

 

“Since it’s already so late, why don’t we just take the day off?” Jaebum sinks into the water.

 

“I have the college kid excuse, but what about you? Shouldn’t you be more responsible?”

 

“It’s not like I haven’t called in.”

 

Bambam furrows his eyebrows skeptically. When did Jaebum have time for that?

 

“Look, bubbles.” Jaebum laughs at his own weak attempt of convincing Bambam. Bambam stares at him pointedly but then sighs and gives in, sitting on the edge of the tub first before completely submerging.

 

The soothing effect is immediate. The temperature is just right, almost too hot for normal people to bear, but that’s how Bambam likes it. The steam that rises up clears up his sinuses. The water smells like lavender and honey and is silky to the touch, gliding through his fingers with an ease that isn’t just due to water by itself. And sure enough, when he scoops some up to the surface with his hand, what he sees is a light purple milky liquid.

 

“What is this, hyung?”

 

“It’s a bath milk. I’ve also added some Epsom salt for your ache. Hopefully you’ll feel better.”

 

“Thank you,” Bambam breathes out. He plays with the water for a few seconds, watching it drip down his arm. Considering how opaque the color is and how large the tub is, Jaebum must have used a lot of product. He’s never seen or felt something so luxurious – not even the excessive amount of designer clothing in Jaebum’s closet. None of it can match the time-stopping serenity of the late yet quiet morning or the sun shining on the bubbles, coloring them violet just before they pop.

 

Jaebum creates a space between his legs, so Bambam slides over and carefully slots himself inside, leaning back so that they’re skin to skin. His head rests comfortably on Jaebum’s shoulder and the water goes up just beneath his collarbones.

 

“Good?”

 

“Mhm,” Bambam hums. “You’re the best.”

 

They spend nearly an hour soaking in the milk and sunlight, in the soft silk of the other’s tight embrace. Bambam’s toes curl as Jaebum grabs the bottom of his inner thigh and his heart races at the thought of Jaebum’s fingers pressing along the bruises that line his skin. They’re kissing deeply in the tub, the water sloshing and rippling from Bambam raising his arms up to loop around Jaebum’s head. He can barely remember how this happened – in one moment, he was opening his eyes and tilting his head up to look at Jaebum, who looks like there’s something at the tip of his tongue and seeping out of the glistening in his eyes. Then in the next, Jaebum is already claiming his plush, red lips.

 

When they finally get out (after noticing how wrinkly their finger pads got), Jaebum insists on carrying him to the dressing room, where he places him on top of a counter and dries him off with a towel. Jaebum is making a big mess on the floor by choosing to neglect himself in favor of caring for Bambam. They would probably get out of here and be able to start their day twice as fast if Jaebum would just let them clean up independently. But Bambam doesn’t have the heart to stop him, not when he looks so focused in sliding the towel over every inch of skin in worship as if he’s precious. And especially not when Bambam’s attention is rapt on the mirror in front of him, where Jaebum’s back is red and wet, filled with scratches he didn’t know he’d left so much of. He’s so captivated by the marks he’s left that he doesn’t notice Jaebum’s equally intense attention on the marks of his _own_ body. They’re faint and lilac, but he’s _covered_ in them.

 

They should be more careful.

 

“Should we go out for lunch?” Jaebum asks.

 

“What do you have in mind?”

 

“Hm…nothing really. Anything’s fine.”

 

After a few minutes of indecisiveness, Bambam hops to his feet. “Or, let’s make lunch together. I saw a lot of side dishes in the fridge the other day – you can’t possibly go through that all by yourself, can you?”

 

“No,” Jaebum smiles slowly. “No, I can’t.”

 

Because Bambam comes by often. And when he does, he makes every meal they share taste so delicious. He eats like he hasn’t seen food in days, his huge appetite disproportionate to his tiny frame. Jaebum eats a lot too, so it’s no surprise when his mother raises her eyebrows in shock when she receives her clean and empty tupperware an entire week too soon. She initially thinks it’s Jinyoung who’s been making a dent in Jaebum’s fridge, but when she catches the fond and poorly hidden smile on her son’s face as he packs away the food into the car, she knows it must be something else.

 

“Don’t you get lonely eating by yourself?” Bambam had asked him once.

 

Jaebum said no, then, because he had never thought of it that way. It’s how it’s always been.

 

“Oh. My family always eats dinner together. I guess I just carried that habit to Korea, so I try to have at least one meal with Yugyeommie. Though I think I might’ve made him too dependent on me,” Bambam laughed.

 

Jaebum thought it was a nice gesture, but didn’t see the point. It seemed unrealistic to always have a meal together. One person could be busy and run late, inconveniencing the other by making them wait. That’s why he wasn’t sure what to feel the first few times he learned that Bambam waited for him to come home whenever he decided to stay over. It’s not like Jaebum couldn’t order delivery at work, so he’d rather Bambam eat well whenever he felt hungry. But Jaebum came home early once and was able to catch Bambam in the middle of cooking. The younger was shamelessly taking advantage of the sound system installed in the condo and wiggled in front of the stove to the melody of GFRIEND’s latest hit. He was singing passionately (and horribly) to his spatula while flipping the vegetables in the frying pan expertly. Nora sat right next to him on the counter, moving her tail back and forth, waiting for the next moment Bambam would satisfy her curiosity by letting her have a whiff of what he’s making.

 

Jaebum had managed to keep his laughing quiet up until Bambam started pointing the spatula at Nora, pretending to have a duet. Bambam whipped around with what had to be the most scandalized and hilarious face Jaebum had seen in his entire life, causing his laughter to double over as he leaned on the doorframe while clutching his stomach.

 

“ _Hyung!_ ” Bambam had screeched through his teeth, loud enough to drive Nora off the counter and leap away.

 

Then, he was childish with his embarrassment, seeking revenge by adding extra soy sauce into Jaebum’s meal only to find out with utter disappointment that Jaebum was a salty eater anyway.

 

But the whole thing, from start to finish, was a source of happiness.

 

It only took that one event for Jaebum to realize many things. For one, it’s that it’s nice to end a long day of work with the knowledge that there will be a hot homemade meal waiting for him at home. It’s a pleasant change from his late night microwaved meals and unhealthy snacks. He can cook for himself, but more often than not he feels too tired and too lazy to put in the effort. Two, Jaebum is suspecting that his own daughter, whom he had raised all by himself, is beginning to betray him. Nora is always following Bambam wherever he goes, but in a hard-to-get kind of way. She tends to play by herself somewhere in the same room, though always within sight. Jaebum is almost hurt by how much she purrs towards Bambam’s petting. And three, there’s something special about the mundaneness of sharing a casual dinner at home. It’s freeing, yet intimate, and the conversation that arises can range from how much Jaebum loves strawberry milk to what Bambam thinks is important to living a meaningful life. They talk for so long, but it’s just so _easy_. It’s so comfortable, so warm, so interesting to hear about Bambam in general. Even washing the dishes, wiping down the table, doesn’t feel like a chore as long as he hears a “Thank you,” to which gives him the opportunity to say, “Thank you for cooking. It was good.”

 

(Well, Jaebum says it regardless. It really is good. And most importantly, it makes Bambam smile.)

 

Jaebum is happy to have Bambam around.

 

(Better worded, deep in his heart: Bambam makes him happy.)

 

And now here they are, leaning against each other on the stools by the island, plates empty and stomachs full. Nora stretches between both of their touching thighs. Bambam smells like sweet lavender.

 

“Hey, girl.” Bambam coos, scratching her head. Jaebum smiles.

 

Suddenly, Jaebum feels light scratching under his chin, akin to what Bambam was doing to Nora.

 

“Hey, boy.” Bambam teases, mirth twinkling in his eyes.

 

Jaebum stares at his pretty, bright face – “…Are you expecting me to purr?”

 

Bambam laughs against his neck.

 

Well, his heart quaking at the sight probably isn’t too far off from purring. They’re both signs of happiness, right?

 

-

 

Much to Jaebum’s dismay, Bambam still wants to go to work. Only problem is, Bambam doesn’t have any of his cosmetics with him in Jaebum’s house and he _can’t_ show up looking like _that_. In the end, his only option is to wrap his neck in a familiar red scarf. In May. When it’s fucking hot.

 

“Or…” Jaebum rubs at a particularly large hickey at the junction of Bambam’s neck. “You could just show them off.”

 

Bambam glares at him, to which he simply smiles and shrugs.

 

“Guess not.”

 

Right before Jaebum drops him off at the office, Bambam catches sight of a make up store and asks to make a quick trip inside. Bambam dashes into the store and plucks off a concealer in his shade, pursing his lips while trying his best to ignore all the weird looks for wearing a knit scarf at the end of spring. Trust him. He’s not having the time of his life sweating under that thing.

 

While Jaebum drives, Bambam pulls down the mirror and paints the crème all over his marks, blending it in to his best ability with only his fingers.

 

“Does it look weird?” Bambam asks when he’s finished, just in time for them to park in the back. It might be a shade too light. Damn makeup and its oxidation.

 

“No,” Jaebum blinks at the deceptively pristine look of Bambam’s neck and collarbones. It’s kind of amazing. “This tiny thing can do that?” He takes the concealer off Bambam’s fingers, reading the labels with curiosity.

 

“Yeah…but that tiny thing is expensive,” Bambam frowns. “If this is going to be the norm, I’m going to be bankrupt.”

 

Jaebum looks at him from the side of his eyes, a smirk growing on his lips. “You’d rather spend the money than just telling me to stop?”

 

Bambam falls silent, heat crawling up his cheeks as the words sink in. He turns his head the other way and grabs his bag below his seat, ready to run. “See you later, hyung.” Bambam avoids the question as he opens the door and disconnects their holding hands. Just as he makes the move to get out, he suddenly stops and twirls his body around, leaning in to kiss Jaebum softly on the cheek. And with that, Bambam makes his escape, closing the car door shut and dashing into the office without any attention to his surroundings. He clocks in completely flushed, leading to one of his co-workers asking him teasingly if he ran a marathon before going to work.

 

Bambam calms down when he settles into his seat, grabbing the first packet of a very tall stack of paperwork ready for him to slave over for the rest of the day. The first few hours go on as usual – he signs things here and there, works on a new summer collection, and talks with other assistant designers over the best sketches so far. Everything is smooth sailing – but Bambam can’t help but feel a little paranoid whenever a silence stretches on for a second too long. He wonders if anyone has noticed anything different about him or has been looking at the terrible concealing job he has done on himself. If they do, they’re nice enough not to comment on it.

 

After grabbing a snack, Bambam peers through the glass walls of a conference room and notices that it’s some of the same models that auditioned about two weeks ago. He realizes right away that it’s those who his boss has hired, so he quickly scans through the faces searching for Lisa. Finding her nowhere in sight, he frowns and walks off, eyebrows drawn together. She was perfect, from her walk to her facial expression. If anything, it would be her shorter height that could lead to her being cut from the group, but that wouldn’t make sense because Bambam has seen female models of the same size walk before. Bambam ponders over it for a while, but ultimately gets back to work when someone catches him twirling around in his chair.

 

Right before he packs up for a day of work, Nana walks by and picks up a sheet of paper lying on his desk. He doesn’t pay much attention to it at first, more occupied with organizing his bag and making sure he has all the folders of submitted designs to look over at home. When that’s done, Bambam looks up to shove the flyer of his university’s upcoming fashion show in as well – only to find it nowhere in sight.

 

“Is this what you’ve been working on, kid?”

 

Bambam looks up cross-eyed at the flyer in his face. Nana’s stiletto nails are digging into the paper and making permanent indents. “Yeah?” He answers, but regrets it right after. Bambam fights the instinctive grimace from twisting on his face. At this rate, he’s going to have to change careers and write a book titled _How to Get Fired: Tell Your Boss You’ve Haven’t Been on Task_.

 

“Can I keep this?”

 

Surprised, Bambam nods immediately, simply glad to not be reprimanded. “Of course – will you come, noona?”

 

She takes a moment to sweep her eyes over the contents again before coolly folding it in half and flipping her hair back. “If I’m bored.” She checks her nails with her wrist bent, looking posh and absolutely perfect even with a nap on the couch. (Bambam remembers seeing Hani hunched over the pot of coffee in the break room while another woman pats her back sympathetically for being stuck in one of Nana’s wine moments again.)

 

He grins up at Nana. That’s as good as a promise, coming from her. “Okay. Give me lots of critique, Nana noona!”

 

“Who said I was going?” Nana frowns at him with unamused eyes.

 

“Well, if you do,” Bambam amends, but he’s sure by now that she’s just playing hard to get, as usual.

 

“If I do,” Nana repeats with a curt nod. She ruffles his hair, which causes him to whine cutely. “Good night, Bam-ah.”

 

Bambam catches the bus home, using his time in the ride to text Lisa about her casting.

 

**me**

[Wed, May 3, 7:48PM]

lisa!!!

:(

 

**Lisa**

[Wed, May 3, 7:51PM]

oh no ;n; what’s up, bamie?

 

**me**

[Wed, May 3, 7:52PM]

you!

I heard you didn’t make the casting for pushbutton

are you okay?

 

**Lisa**

[Wed, May 3, 7:53PM]

oh!! ^^

of course!! it happens all the time, don’t worry!

thank you for asking <3333

 

**Lisa**

[Wed, May 3, 7:54PM]

I got hired in other places >:3

 

Suddenly, it hits him.

 

**me**

[Wed, May 3, 7:56PM]

hey, do you happen to have room in your schedule for another go-see?

 

-

 

“Welcome to headquarters!” Bambam swings the door open and sidesteps to let Lisa go inside first, both of them smiling goofily at each other.

 

“Oh, Bam – I thought you were serious about taking me to a casting!” Lisa laughs behind her hand, looking around the apartment with curiosity.

 

“What!” Bambam exaggeratedly huffs. “This _is_ a casting! We’re going in right now to try on Bhuwakul’s very own handcrafted gowns!”

 

She gasps, eyes shining. “No way!” Lisa grabs both of his hands, shaking them up and down in excitement. “ _No way!_ You’ve improved that much since you’ve left?”

 

He gloats a little, eyes rolling upwards with a wide smile. “I _am_ Bambam, after all.”

 

Bambam gives her a quick tour of his apartment first, letting her peek through all the rooms aside from Yugyeom’s since he isn’t home. As Bambam bends down to grab the bottle of juice from the fridge, a necklace falls out of where it was once tucked into his shirt, hidden from view. It glimmers in the light and looks like it matches the bracelet that he always wears.

 

“That’s pretty,” she smiles as he hands her a glass of tropical juice. “Where’d you get it?”

 

“Oh,” Bambam looks down and grabs the silver pendent, as if he forgot it was there. “Hyung got it for my birthday.” She doesn’t have to ask to know which hyung Bambam is talking about – he only ever talks about one, anyway. Bambam picks at the hem of his shirt shyly for a second, and that little habit warms her up from the inside out. He’s done that since they were little. It’s comforting to know some things will never change.

 

“Ohhhh,” Lisa smirks and sends him a pair of shifty eyes. “You lucky little fox, you.”

 

“Please.” Bambam snorts and rolls his eyes. As an afterthought, he adds, “He spoils me too much.”

 

“If that’s how he shows you affection then I think it’s fine.”

 

He shakes his head. “It’s…a bit burdensome. But I know. I’m still trying to find a middle ground for this situation.” A segment of silence follows, so he figures it’s time they get to the point. “So! Are you ready to get down to business?”

 

Upon opening his closet and unzipping the garment bags for Lisa to see, Bambam takes a step back and lets himself feel flattered and proud at her enthusiastic expressions. Aside from Yugyeom and Jimin, no one else has been able to get even a sneak peek of Bambam’s finished collection. In contrast to his looks (and the ever haphazard state of his room), Bambam is a perfectionist through and through. He wants to keep all of his hard work and struggles to himself and only reveal the final product, the fruits of his labor. He’s lost countless nights of sleep over these dresses in the past few months, and although there are still some parts he wishes he could’ve done better, it’s still a whole eighty percent of his satisfaction – which is significantly higher than what he thought of his previous works. It’s the first line that he’s ever done all alone and the first time he’s been able to act wholeheartedly in his creative direction. To say that he’s proud of them would be an understatement. They feel more like his children – but watch Changkyun call him crazy for referring to his dresses as if they were people.

 

“Bam…” Lisa gapes at the extravagant gowns, all floral and diamonds with trains that puts Valentino to shame –

 

“Hey! Don’t talk about Valentino like that!”

 

“These are absolutely gorgeous!” Lisa ignores him. “Bambam – you’re ridiculously talented! I can’t believe this! I feel like I don’t deserve to wear this…”

 

“You’re exaggerating,” Bambam smiles softly. “I should be the one begging you to wear them.”

 

“Beg? Gosh, no! These are a dream to wear, let alone walk in. Are you sure you want me to model them for you? I don’t think I’m quite tall enough.”

 

“You’re perfect.” Bambam brings over her nude heels and plucks off a baby pink dress for her to try on. “You can change in the bathroom at the end – then maybe you can walk down the hallway for me?”

 

Lisa nods and lifts the train over her arms, mindful not to dirty it. She comes out of the bathroom relatively fast, which impresses him greatly, but Bambam laughs when it’s actually because she can’t reach the zipper at the middle of her back. He pulls it up for her and nearly runs to the living room, eager to watch her strut down his old carpet and bring life into his dress.

 

Lisa has on light makeup, and her blonde hair is pin-straight, falling neatly right on her shoulders. With her shoes on, she’s definitely taller than Bambam and her proportions lengthens her even more. From far away, anyone would have guessed that she was at least 180 cm. The dress she has on now was inspired by peonies – it took only a bit of searching for Bambam to realize that the first bouquet of flowers he had ever gotten from Jaebum was of pale pink peonies. He remembers the breathlessness of that day, of when he first saw them and held them in his hands, petals soft and delicate to the touch. He remembers Jaebum placing one in his hair and calling him pretty, making his hands shake and flushing his cheeks crimson. It felt like a flower bud blooming on a spring day, swaying in the wind as the sunlight shone on the dew hanging off its petals.

 

And Bambam tried to recreate that to the best of his abilities, choosing a light and dusty pink color scheme, accented by waves of small sparkling gemstones. It’s mostly made of chiffon and lace, made to flow with the model’s every step as if the wind was dancing beneath their feet. It has a deep plunge in the front and is off the shoulder. The sleeves are bell-shaped, large and falling past the fingers. The design starts with a 3D print of a budding peony on the right side of the chest and from there, petals fall toward the bottom of the train where it is the most saturated in pink. Crystals are sown sparingly between them, catching attention towards the dress but still keeping the focus on the flowers. With a white satin choker and a simple rhinestone pendent on Lisa’s neck, Bambam thinks that she looks absolutely ethereal. And when she begins to walk, he holds his breath.

 

Her strides are long and elegant, and her expression is kept sweet and innocent. Bambam has half the mind to marvel at her ability to adapt to a given image, but he is mostly stunned and overwhelmed by how _his_ dress looks like it _belongs_ on her. Even when she turns, her heels never step on the train, and somehow her retreating figure is even more beautiful than in the front. The sleeves rustle behind her and she, quite honestly, looks like a fairy.

 

Bambam lets her try on one, two, three more dresses and each time she comes out, his mind races. How does she do it? How can she fit exactly to what he has in mind and make it feel like _he’s_ been the one catering to _her_? He loves his dresses, but he loves them even more when they’re on Lisa. He’s never felt this way when he’s had others wear his creations. Is…is this what having a muse is like? Obviously it’s not in the way that Jaebum is – it’s in the way that she feels like the final piece to the puzzle of completing his art.

 

Bambam thinks about it some more as they wrap up, carefully placing all the dresses on their respective hangers.

 

Lisa pulls him away from his thoughts with a small gasp. He turns around, and she’s staring at a red gown. It’s the first one Bambam has made for the collection and it’s his most prized possession at this point. It’s special to him and holds more meaning to him than he can say – so he’s reluctant to let anyone wear it after realizing that no one could work it without looking like the dress was wearing _them_ instead of the other way around. He was never satisfied with the way it looked on his friends, even on the tallest and slimmest noona he knows. Although the dress itself is beautiful, if no one can wear it, he’d rather not show it off at all. Bambam has even considered removing it from the fashion show.

 

“Bambam…can I try this on?”

 

He hesitates, but she seems so mesmerized by it that he doesn’t have the heart to refuse her.

 

“Okay. Last one.” He smiles.

 

Bambam waits out in the living room nervously – and it’s ridiculous. Why would he be nervous to look at his own dress? Technically he’s the one hiring her; he should have more control in this situation.

 

But then she comes out, and he’s certain of one thing: Lisa _has_ to walk for him for the show. There isn’t any other option. She has to be the main model, the one he walks with at the curtain call.

 

“Lisa, will you walk for me? I know I don’t have much to offer, but you can name the price and I promise I’ll do my best to pay you well.” If he wins, he can use half of the prize money on her. It would be worth it.

 

“I’ll do it for free,” she smiles brightly.

 

Bambam widens his eyes. “What?”

 

“Well okay, maybe you’ll have to provide me a ride. I think Jennie has to be up early that day to do a bride’s makeup.”

 

“No, no, you can’t just do it for free! I’m going to be asking a lot out of you – I’m short of models so you’ll probably have to be running back and forth backstage to get into my dresses in half the time you’d normally get.”

 

“That’s fine.”

 

Bambam frowns.

 

“Really! It’s fine! I think just being able to wear what you make makes it worth it. You put so much love into it…it’s an honor, really. You have so much talent, Bam. I just want to be there for you.”

 

Bambam has no idea how he managed to be so lucky to have such kind and selfless friends. Not knowing what to say, Bambam pulls out an imitation of Lisa’s touched and high-pitched wails, throwing his arms out to wrap her in a big hug. He pretends to cry on her shoulder while she laughs at how ugly he looks, her round face scrunching up happily.

 

And Yugyeom, a young man with a knack for entering at the wrong time, comes home to the sound of loud wailing and the sight of a stranger in a dress way too fancy for their old apartment. He nearly closes the front door on himself, wondering if he walked into the wrong house.

 

-

 

See, the thing about finally taking the plunge together is that Bambam thought it would be easier for Jaebum to just act on his (very open) desires. Before they had their first time, Bambam would purposefully roam around his house with just a big shirt and shorts. It didn’t really work then, like he told Jungkook. But _now_? He’s baffled that it’s _still_ not working.

 

What the heck.

 

Bambam looks down.

 

Is Jaebum not a leg man?

 

He twists his head around and spies Jaebum’s eyes peering at his legs over the newspaper. But he can’t be too sure. So he goes to put the tea box away, still watching Jaebum from the corner of his eyes. And like he thought, Jaebum’s eyes follow his movement, especially when his shirt rides up from him reaching to place the tea back in the top cabinet. Bambam pours hot water into two cups, staring at the tea seeping out of the sachet in swirls. He contemplates what to do for a moment then strengthens his resolve before bringing the cups over to Jaebum. He slides into his seat and shuffles closer until he’s practically draped over Jaebum, a hand anchoring himself comfortably on his hyung’s shoulder. His leaning torso creates a nice dip at his waist and the billow of his shirt loses its airiness upon sitting down, making it easy to innocuously ride it up with a movement of his right arm. That results in revealing the waistband of his shorts, which is actually just a tad too big and barely covering the jut of his hipbone. Bambam is freshly showered, so his skin is soft and warm and smells a lot like Jaebum’s body wash. Half of his damp hair hangs just past his eye while the other half is tucked behind his ear.

 

“What are you reading?”

 

Jaebum swallows, pupils shaking before he replies with a surprisingly even voice. Bambam smiles inwardly and feels joy bubbling up in his chest. It’s so fun to tease his hyung, but it’s even better to know that he has such a huge effect on him.

 

“I was looking more at the crossword puzzle.”

 

“Yeah? How far did you get?” Bambam glances down at the empty boxes. Not very far, apparently.

 

“It’s a work in progress.” Jaebum puts the paper down and lowers the volume on the TV. He moves his arm behind Bambam and pulls down his shirt, covering his exposed skin. His hand though, rests warmly on Bambam’s waist. “…Are you testing me?” He asks wearily, a hint of a frown on his lips and an obvious fluster in his eyes.

 

Bambam giggles behind his hand, but it sounds downright devious to Jaebum’s ears. “What are you talking about?”

 

“…Never mind.”

 

They watch the re-run of a weekly drama together, one that Yugyeom has been insisting that _somebody_ in this damn group watch it already so he can talk about his feelings on the main couple. Yugyeom always sounds like a bored stay-at-home mom whenever he brings up these drama discussions. Bambam seriously doesn’t know where he finds the time to be so on top of not just one, but multiple dramas as if he isn’t busy with a teaching job at a dance studio. Normally Bambam wouldn’t watch them regularly – he simply sits down for an episode here and there when they have dinner at home – but now that he spends pretty much half the week at Jaebum’s, it’s a good past time or at least good background noise.

 

Except, Bambam isn’t paying attention. And neither is Jaebum, for that matter.

 

Bambam keeps moving around, and it’s distracting because Jaebum’s eyes always involuntarily get drawn into his smooth thighs and he literally has to concentrate on _not_ thinking about them in order to not stare at them. But it’s counterproductive – he’s trying so hard not to think about them that he really _is_ thinking about them. Like how they’re unmarked now that it’s been quite some time, so the flowery bruises that he had left has disappeared. Or how Bambam was so sensitive and responsive, shivering prettily beneath his mouth. Jaebum eventually tries to look elsewhere…only to be trapped in the seductiveness that is Bambam’s parted pink lips, a peep of tongue darting out to wet the surface.

 

Jaebum feels both incredibly blessed and painfully tortured. Too bad he’s enjoying the view too much to whole-heartedly wish that Bambam would put on more clothes for the night.

 

“…looking at?”

 

Jaebum blinks, belatedly realizing that Bambam’s lips are moving because he’s _talking_. Right. “Hm?”

 

“I said, what are you looking at, Jaebum hyung?” Bambam has a small knowing smile on his face and – god, he looks so cute. Is he getting prettier each day? Jaebum wouldn’t put it past him to still be growing into his looks. He’s so young, after all.

 

“Nothing much.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Of course,” Jaebum replies coolly.

 

“Alright.” Bambam turns back to the TV, where a commercial is playing. “Because I could’ve sworn you were being a pervert back there.”

 

“ _What_?” Jaebum chokes. “I was _not_.”

 

“Hyung,” Bambam tsks, “you’re not very subtle with that beady look of yours.”

 

“My eyes are small,” Jaebum retorts. “Lots of people misunderstand them.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Really.”

 

“Okay. I guess I was wrong about you wanting a kiss then.” Bambam shrugs, sitting up straight.

 

“Wait,” Jaebum backpedals. “That’s completely unrelated.” When the hell does he _not_ want a kiss? Jesus Christ.

 

“Oh.” Bambam pretends to consider it. “Do you want one?”

 

Jaebum automatically tears away from resting on the couch. “Yeah.”

 

Bambam cups his cheek before leaning in, gently slotting their lips together. It makes them both melt. He lifts himself up from his seat, swinging his leg over Jaebum’s other side so that he can climb on his lap. “Do you want to touch my thigh?” He whispers when they break apart, faces barely inches away.

 

Jaebum bites his lip, exhaling as he admits, “…Yeah.”

 

“Go ahead, hyung.”

 

So Jaebum slowly moves his hands to Bambam’s thighs, but he’s being frustratingly cautious about it, only curling around the part near his knees.

 

“…You can go higher than that, if you want.”

 

His hands travel upwards, and his fingers press into the fleshier parts near his bum. Bambam is small and thin, so he doesn’t have much to him, but Jaebum just…likes how he feels in his hands. He feels like he fits. Now that his hands are there, an itch crawls up his veins and he’s simmering with the want for more. But Jaebum doesn’t act on it; he just takes what he’s given. His thumb caresses Bambam’s skin while they lock lips. It’s a simple, long kiss, yet it makes him feel full and content from within just being able to savor it. Bambam has always tasted sweet to him, even from the first night they met. It makes Jaebum want to treat him preciously.

 

When they peel apart for air and Bambam’s lashes flutter to reveal dark alluring eyes, Jaebum internally falls into shambles, fumbling to pick up the pieces of his self-control. But for every moment the wolf in him bares its fangs, he fights back twice as hard. Slowly. Preciously. It’s what Bambam deserves.

 

“Hyung.” Bambam says softly, pulling him away from his thoughts. Jaebum looks at him in the eye and is surprised to see pointed, hard orbs peering back at him. “Do you think about touching me often?”

 

Jaebum clenches his jaw, unsure how to respond.

 

“You do,” Bambam answers confidently for him. “How come you act like you’re pining for me when you can just…get me?”

 

“Uh…” Jaebum blinks. He honestly he didn’t know he was coming off that way – but hearing it out loud, it sounds completely accurate.

 

“Are you trying to do that protective thing of yours?” Bambam frowns, recalling how nervous and out of character Jaebum got when they had their first time. He’s so considerate of Bambam’s boundaries that it’s frustrating because it’s clear that he’s drawing the line much shorter than what Bambam would make. “You do realize that I know what I’m doing, right? That I’m purposefully seducing you?” Seriously. To what extent does he have to hoe himself out just to get a little bit of attention from his own boyfriend?

 

“It’s on purpose?” Jaebum looks stressed out.

 

“Well. Today in particular is on purpose,” Bambam smiles in amusement. “Anyway, the point is…I wish you’d be less careful with me. Maybe be a bit more honest. You don’t have to hold back when you look at me like that.” He sighs, “I’m not going to break, hyung.”

 

Jaebum seems to be fighting himself for a moment, the struggle making itself clear in the furrow of his brows. He’s doing that thing where he’s grinding his jaw again, and Bambam resists the urge to roll his eyes. It seems like he’s going to have to lead his hyung for a bit.

 

“Okay, listen.” Bambam clears his throat. “I like it when you’re sweet to me. Which is all the time. That’s great, hyung. You get a whole ten out of ten.” He removes himself from Jaebum’s lap and grabs his wrist. “But,” Bambam starts. He yanks Jaebum down, falling back on the couch while Jaebum barely manages to catch himself from completely landing on Bambam by gripping onto the back of the cushions. His eyes are wide as he stares into Bambam, pure wonder and surprise washing over his handsome face.

 

“I like it better when you dominate me.”

 

Bambam watches in satisfaction as the change transpires. Jaebum’s mouth falls open at first, eyes wavering in disbelief. Then, the softness of his features morphs into hardness, into the man that Bambam hardly ever sees these days but remembers vividly with a fluttering heart. It’s the man with the piercing eyes, the sharpest of cheekbones, and the confidence that only comes with maturity and experience. It’s the man who preys; it’s the man whose broadness and strength cage and engulf Bambam with ease. And Bambam relishes in the heated gaze, is ignited by being so deeply desired.

 

Bambam tilts his head slightly, exposing his unblemished neck. He lightly traces down his skin.

 

“It’s been so long that I’ve forgotten who I belong to. Hyung…won’t you please remind me?”

 

Jaebum is not someone who needs to be asked twice.

 

-

 

(Either Bambam is too good or Jaebum is too easy because now Bambam has a new consequential problem: lack of sleep and a hyung who just won’t quit.

 

“I don’t get it! Is he making up for lost time or something? How is he hornier than _me_ , an actual college student with raging hormones?”

 

“He’s showing off, isn’t he?” Minghao deadpans.

 

“Yup.”

 

“He’s showing off.”

 

“No, it’s a genuine problem!”

 

“Shut up, Bambam, no one cares.”)

 

-

 

It’s late at night and Yugyeom has officially banned him from working on his dresses. It’s been “finished” for a good week now, but everything is going so smoothly that Bambam is slowly but surely getting more and more anxious as the date of the fashion show approaches. Every time he looks at his collection, he finds a mistake that he wants to fix. And the more he fixes them, the more mistakes he finds. Then he gets trapped in this never-ending cycle of making last-minute changes and stressing out at the new humongous workload he’s put on himself. This is when Yugyeom comes in and tells him he’s being dumb and that everything is perfect so sit down and relax.

 

“Nothing can be _perfect_ ,” Bambam sweats. “I can always improve. That’s life, you know?” He jumps, trying to snatch his dress from Yugyeom’s hand holding it up in the air.

 

“Yes, but you’re being _obsessive_ about it. You’re going to do _great_.” Yugyeom hides the dress in his closet and locks it shut, pushing Bambam out of his room while he dramatically wails in the hallway.

 

“Yugyeom, you bastard!” Bambam pulls on his hair. “I can’t believe you’re forbidding me from working on my own project – I’m going to _fail_ and _shame my family_ and be a bum on the street collecting coins because of you! Yugyeom how could you! I thought you loved me!”

 

“I’m doing this for your own good. Now stop being dramatic and let’s go watch something.”

 

Yugyeom offers to make dinner (read: make ramen) for the both of them so Bambam can stop worrying and pick a show to watch on TV. Yugyeom’s not interested in any of the running dramas tonight so they tune in on Happy Together 3, a variety talk show featuring a bunch of celebrities. Yugyeom sets the pot down on the coffee table and they begin to chow down without even transferring the noodles to bowls. By the time the commercials are over, they’re already halfway through the ramen and Bambam knows no way the food is going to last through even half the episode.

 

The theme song starts playing and the MCs appear. After a bit of bantering, they hype up the appearance of a popular guest who’s flown in from overseas just to film an episode with them.

 

Suddenly, Jackson flips into the screen and pounds his heart, shouting something about having the sincerity of a rookie.

 

Bambam slaps Yugyeom’s arm beside him, a strand of ramen hanging from his mouth. He slurps it up while exclaiming, “It’s Jackson!”

 

“Ow! Why’d you hit me!”

 

“I know him!”

 

“I know you know him!”

 

“I know someone on _TV_ ,” Bambam excitedly points to Jackson with his chopsticks. “That’s so _cool_.” Never mind the fact that he’s been talking to Jackson through texting – just let him have his moment. For some reason, it didn’t really hit him who Jackson was until he appeared on the screen just now. Bambam suddenly thinks Jackson is twice as cool.

 

“He’s handsome,” Yugyeom comments. Bambam nods in agreement.

 

It turns out to be a special with the cast of Jackson’s upcoming movie. Normally promotions on variety shows don’t start until after the movie is in the box office, but it’s such a rarity for Jackson to be available and in Korea that they can’t miss on the opportunity. No spoilers are given as they share stories about their first impressions of each other and how difficult filming was.

 

“ _Usually foreign stars are very careful upon approaching producers and writers, maybe because of the language barrier or general shyness but Jackson…_ ” The actress gets ready to mimic Jackson. “ _‘Oh!!! Hyung!!! It’s nice to meet you, please take care of me, hehe!_ ’”

 

The fake gruff voice, along with Jackson’s reaction edited on the side, draws laughter both on and off screen.

 

Bambam snorts out a laugh. Yeah, that sounds exactly like Jackson.

 

The stars chat some more, interrupting each other now and then for a shady diss that has the whole studio erupting in laughter and screaming at the third degree burn. Jackson pretends to faint and slip off the chair at some point.

 

“ _What’s the most ridiculous thing that happened while filming?_ ”

 

“ _Well, this isn’t something during filming but…_ ” Another actor sneaks a glance at Jackson, who pulls on an indignant expression.

 

“ _Why? Why me again?_ ” Jackson complains, albeit with a smile since everyone else is laughing.

 

“ _Jackson once got mad at me because his contact on my phone was ‘Wang Jackson.’_ ”

 

“ _Eh? What’s wrong with that?_ ” An MC questions.

 

“ _It has no soul! No heart! You should have emojis and nicknames for me!_ ”

 

Jackson goes on to explain that it’s much more fun to text someone who’s responsive and uses stickers. The contact name matters because it shows how close you are with someone. It takes a bit of a serious turn when they eventually breach on the topic of Jackson’s friendly personality and his closeness with his many friends.

 

“ _Honestly, I don’t have many friends_ ,” Jackson begins, which elicits a bunch of boo-ing. Someone comments that he probably talks to their mothers more than they do themselves. “ _Well, I’m a very bright and open person and I get attached easily. So often times I think someone is a really close friend but they don’t seem to think that way back_.”

 

Yugyeom and Bambam end up watching all the way until the end, the broadcast too funny and intriguing to stop. Jackson is funny and charming all at once, and Bambam can see why he’s so popular and still on the rise to fame. On top of that, he’s talented and has a heart of gold. He’s the perfect package, really.

 

They clean up and head to their rooms for now with a bit of a warning from Yugyeom not to sneak in the middle of the night to snatch back his dresses. Bambam mocks his warning with a roll of the eyes and shuts the door, climbing onto his bed for the nightly ritual of scrolling through social media. He’s distracted by what Jackson had confessed on television though – he feels a little sorry, knowing that he hasn’t put too much effort so far in maintaining their friendship. They’re both busy, so it’s understandable. But still, Bambam wonders if Jackson has been lonely in Korea. All he seems to do is work and sleep, with the occasional midnight snack out in the streets.

 

A short text to Jackson probably won’t hurt.

 

**me**

[Sat, May 20, 10:11PM]

hyung!!! how have you been???

 

There’s no reply even after twenty minutes, so Jackson’s probably still working. He’ll get back to him in the morning or something. An hour later, Bambam falls asleep on his bed without washing up, his phone narrowly missing his face in the process.

 

-

 

**King Jackson!**

[Sun, May 21, 2:00AM]

kiddo!!! I’m okay

thanks for asking

waaaAAAAAH hyung is so touched

TT_____TT <3333

 

Bambam jolts awake – his phone’s vibrating like crazy. He grumbles upon turning on the screen, squinting at the blinding light that worsens his mood further. His mouth feels stale and dirty and he really hates it when he falls asleep like this. Something loud (his phone) _always_ shocks him awake and leaves his heart pounding in adrenaline. It’s unpleasant, to say the least.

 

But it’s Jackson, and by his standards, two in the morning is actually pretty early.

 

He’s about to tell Jackson he’s going to bed when he receives another text.

 

**King Jackson!**

[Sun, May 21, 2:02AM]

hey, wanna go get ice cream??? :>

 

**me**

[Sat, May 20, 2:03AM]

………now?

 

**King Jackson!**

[Sun, May 21, 2:03AM]

now!!!!!!! ^^

 

**me**

[Sat, May 20, 2:03AM]

look at the time, hyung

I want to sleep

;;

 

**King Jackson!**

[Sun, May 21, 2:04AM]

at 2? no! let’s go!

youth is all about spontaneity!!

>:D

 

So here he is, out in the middle of the night waiting for a sketchy “navy blue car” as if he can tell colors apart in the dark. When a car does show up in front of his house, Bambam is still reluctant to unstick his feet from where it’s glued onto the cement. The window rolls down, and it indeed is Jackson – except without a manager. Bambam gets into the passenger’s seat with a raised eyebrow.

 

“Hey,” he greets. “Where’s your manager?”

 

“At the hotel, of course!” Jackson quips. “Come on now, hurry up. Ice cream doesn’t last forever, you know.”

 

“He lets you out alone?” Bambam buckles on the seatbelt and Jackson drives off. Jackson lets out a little “teehee,” which has Bambam slightly panicking. “You snuck out?!”

 

“I wouldn’t say I _snuck out._ It’s more like I left without him knowing.”

 

“Isn’t that the same thing?” Bambam says exasperatedly.

 

Jackson waves his hand dismissively. “It’s fine, it’s a quick trip to the convenience store.”

 

“ _Hyung_ ,” Bambam groans. “You woke me up in the middle of the night for convenience store ice cream?”

 

“Well, I don’t know anywhere else with ice cream this late – hey now, don’t sass me with that eye roll, okay?” Jackson snaps his fingers.

 

“I didn’t roll my eyes.”

 

“But you were gonna.”

 

It’s a short drive to the store, but it’s enough to wake Bambam up and get him just as talkative as Jackson, who insists that they brag three points about themselves to fill up the silence. They laugh and cringe at each other, teasing all the way up to the cashier. Jackson lets Bambam pick out a durian popsicle and pays for it as his treat. He whips out his wallet with a cool pose…then cracks Bambam up as he ends up one thousand won short and has to frantically scour his pockets for change.

 

“Thanks, hyung. That cost you a whole fortune,” Bambam nudges him with an elbow, smiling over his ice cream.

 

“Oh, that seriously scared me just now.” Jackson scrunches up his face and clutches his heart. “I thought I’d have to wash the dishes to make up for it.”

 

“It’s not a restaurant; they don’t have dishes,” Bambam shakes his head. Jackson’s so silly – one could hardly guess that he’s a year short of thirty. They sit at one of the cheap tables outside and unwrap the packaging. Bambam takes a bite out of his popsicle and looks up to see a very affronted Jackson.

 

“You’re one of _those_ people,” Jackson gasps. “Savage.”

 

“What’s wrong with biting ice cream?”

 

“You’re supposed to enjoy them slowly by licking them!”

 

“They’ll melt!”

 

“You lick it before it melts!”

 

“Fine, whatever, I’ll go slow.”

 

Jackson has a cap on, but it only takes a little bit of studying for Bambam to realize it. Despite his cheerful voice and funny antics, there’s something off about his eyes that he can’t completely conceal. When it’s silent, his façade melts away enough for Bambam to see the strain and the affliction marring his face. Bambam’s gaze falls down onto his ice cream to not get caught staring. Strangely, like that, Jackson does look like his age.

 

“How’s school?”

 

Bambam smiles, “That’s a question my uncle would ask.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jackson frowns. “Can’t a hip, young, hyung ask his dongsaeng how he’s doing in school?”

 

Bambam takes a bite of his ice cream out of habit. “I’m doing well, I guess. There’s a fashion show coming up and I’m in it. I’ve been working on that for literally the entire year so far and now that it’s actually here, I’m nervous.”

 

“Really? Wow! When is it? Maybe I can go see it.”

 

“It’s no big deal,” Bambam shrugs. He tends to downplay his efforts, especially when he doesn’t want to be an inconvenience. “You’ve got a lot on your hands.”

 

“Tell me anyway; I’ll go if I’m free.”

 

Bambam smiles appreciatively, nodding and answering him.

 

“Alright, so how’s work? Any cool photo shoots?”

 

And that’s how Bambam knows that Jackson brought him here to distract himself. It’s not that Jackson doesn’t care about any of these things that he’s asking – it’s quite the contrary. Jackson is sincere, if nothing else. But he must be in need of company, for whatever reason Bambam doesn’t know. He’s not sure if Jackson wants him to pry, so he leaves it alone for now, choosing to talk about his life at school and his funniest stories with his friends. He fills in all the silences and keeps the mood up even when Jackson begins to fall in and out of attention, seemingly getting distracted by the flickering streetlights.

 

“ – and then hyung threw that gigantic snowball at my face! Can you believe that was his idea of romance? And the fact that it worked? What the hell.”

 

Jackson stays silent for a little too long this time, forgetting to hum or nod along for Bambam to continue. He belatedly realizes this and apologizes. “Sorry – which hyung are you talking about again?”

 

“My boyfriend,” Bambam smiles softly. He bites the inside of his cheeks – it still makes him giddy to be able to say that.

 

“Your boyfriend courted you by throwing a snowball at your face?” Jackson looks scandalized. “What kind of trash is that? Break up with him!”

 

Bambam laughs. “No! I like him.”

 

“What a pity,” Jackson reaches over and gives him what feels like a paternal pat on his cheek. “Sorry that a cute kid like you is stuck with such a loser.”

 

“He’s older than you by two months, you know.”

 

Jackson coughs promptly – “He’s what?!”

 

Ah. The typical reaction. “He’s your age,” Bambam repeats.

 

“Seriously?” Jackson’s eyes blink at him owlishly. “ _Damn_. I can’t imagine what it’s like to be with someone that younger than me…or that older than me. Respect.”

 

“What about you, hyung? Do you have anyone special?”

 

Jackson freezes – and Bambam bites his tongue. He must’ve struck the source of the problem there.

 

“Sorry. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” Bambam quickly says, not wanting to bring up a fresh wound or anything like that.

 

“It’s okay.”

 

They finish their ice cream in silence and Bambam sadly looks down at the table. He messed up, and now he’s probably hurt someone without meaning to.

 

“Hey…do you mind if I dump a heavy story on you? I think what I really need is to…let it all out.” Jackson purses his lips and looks into the darkness across the street. “I’m sorry that I have to depend on you, Bambam. I don’t really have anyone to talk to here, or at least anyone who won’t judge me. Other than you, I only have one best friend from college and…he’s not really someone I can tell this to.”

 

Bambam holds his breath and nods. “Of course, Jackson hyung. I’m here to listen whenever.”

 

“Thanks,” Jackson pats the top of his hand on the table. Bambam waits for him to continue patiently. It takes a while for Jackson to collect all of thoughts, or even decide where to begin. Eventually, he settles for, “I used to be in love when I was your age.”

 

Bambam follows Jackson’s line of sight, looking into the distance.

 

“Maybe I still am. I don’t know. I met him in my second year of university, when I accidentally knocked into him at the library. It was a classic drama moment, where I helped him pick up his books and everything. He was already with someone else, then. But that didn’t really matter to me; at that time, I just wanted to be friends. We matched well – kind of in a polar opposites kind of way.”

 

Bambam frowns. It’s already not starting off well.

 

“So I hung out with him a lot and soon met his boyfriend – who, catch this,” Jackson smirks, “became my best friend.”

 

“ _No_ ,” Bambam gasps and nearly chokes on the sudden intake of air.

 

“ _Yeah_. My love life should be written into a tragic romance novel,” Jackson chuckles. “I knew they were together…but I caught feelings anyway. Smart, huh?”

 

“Oh, hyung…”

 

“We didn’t cheat or anything…but sometimes it felt like it. Emotionally. Because sometimes I got the feeling that it wasn’t only me that felt that way. He would push and pull, and naturally, I got confused, you know? But I loved my best friend too, and I couldn’t do that to them. I didn’t want to be the reason they broke up or anything. So when I got cast in my first movie role over in Hong Kong, I jumped on the opportunity. Thinking about it now, I think I left a lot of things unfinished. Before I left, he said he had something to say to me – but I was afraid to hear it, so I only said goodbye to my best friend and took the earliest plane out of Korea. And now…now that I’m back…I met up with him.”

 

“What happened?”

 

“…Not much. We kind of had nothing to say. Or at least, we don’t know how to say what we want to say. It’s complicated.”

 

“That must’ve been so hard on you, hyung. I’m sorry.”

 

“Hardest thing about coming back here,” Jackson nods and smiles wistfully. “I don’t know how it’s going to turn out. I’m kind of hoping nothing will at all. But anyway, it’s not so bad. I got to do lots of cool things here, like meeting you.”

 

Bambam smiles back and squeezes Jackson’s hand. “I’m glad I met you too. I hope everything turns out well for you. You deserve to be happy.”

 

Jackson puts his hand on top of Bambam’s and relaxes. He seems to feel a bit better, having someone to talk to. After some time, Bambam stands up, causing Jackson to look up at him curiously.

 

“Ready for round two of ice cream?” Bambam shows Jackson his clean popsicle stick with a cheeky grin. It has the word “winner” printed on it. “It’ll be my treat.”

 

-

 

It’s six in the evening, and Jaebum and Bambam have a dinner to get to by seven. Bambam feels nervous as it’s the first time that Jaebum has ever asked him to hang out with his friends and it feels like a formal introduction, like going to get the official stamp of approval or something. Jaebum has promised him that it was only going to be two other people, one of which is Jinyoung. Bambam smiles wryly at the information and says nothing, just continues to dip his brush in a dark gray shadow for his eyebrows.

 

“Jinyoung pulled the exact same face,” Jaebum frowns. “Did something happen between you two?”

 

“It’s just awkward,” Bambam explains vaguely.

 

“You’ll get to know him better. It won’t be so bad then.”

 

Ha.

 

Bambam finishes up his makeup and the only thing left is to choose a tint. Jaebum has been sitting next to him by the vanity, watching him doll up with interest.

 

“You’re so pretty,” Jaebum says for the millionth time.

 

“Stop it, hyung. I can’t concentrate like that.” Bambam grins anyway, unable to contain himself. He pulls out three colors from his pouch and decides to lay them out in front of Jaebum. “Want to pick a color for me?” There’s a mauve pink, orange, and burgundy red. Although he’s giving him options, Bambam has a feeling Jaebum likes red the most.

 

“This one,” Jaebum picks up the red tube. Bambam smiles. He was right. Jaebum twists the cap open and looks lost as he stares at the brush applicator.

 

“Put a little bit here. Just the inner part,” Bambam points to the center of his lip. Jaebum brushes on the tint with a careful hand and looks so concentrated that Bambam wants to laugh. He manages to keep it in and looks in the mirror to do the blending himself with his finger. He smacks his lips once, twice, before turning to look at Jaebum. For someone who only placed a few dots of product on, he looks really proud.

 

“Okay, I’m ready to go.” Bambam stands up and swings his blazer on.

 

“Wait.”

 

Bambam halts in his step, waiting for Jaebum to continue. Jaebum doesn’t do anything, just stands from afar and looks at him up and down.

 

“Okay, let’s go,” Jaebum grins with a glint in his eye that has Bambam’s jaw dropping. Did he really just do that? Bambam narrows his eyes and smacks him as they walk out the door, ignoring Jaebum’s hearty laugh behind him.

 

It’s a restaurant by the beach and is as posh as any other place Jaebum has taken him. They have a reserved table by the window where they can still see the pier and the sunset but without having to bear with the wind. It seems that they’ve arrived first, so Jaebum and Bambam sip on champagne while talking in close, hushed whispers even though they’re technically all alone. Bambam has already taken the liberty of scooting the chair around the round table closer, so Jaebum is able to easily hang his arm over his seat. The top of his navy dress shirt is left unbuttoned. With the way that he’s resting his other arm on the table and leaning into Bambam, he looks exactly like those rich and flirtatious bachelors hanging around at the bar with their pretty date.

 

Jinyoung arrives five minutes later, and Bambam draws back from Jaebum’s space, sitting up straight and letting the laughter die from his lips. They greet each other and slowly curl their lips into a smile. Bambam has never been one for passive aggressiveness but Jinyoung seems to be able to draw it out of him just fine.

 

“Hey,” he looks gently at Jaebum. When his eyes roll over to Bambam, it’s with a brightness that looks frightening. “Hello, it’s nice to see you again.”

 

“Hi,” Bambam keeps it short.

 

Jinyoung sits to the right of Jaebum, directly in front of them. The waitress comes by to pour more drinks and they make small talk. It’s not so bad, as long as it’s Jaebum who’s leading the conversation. Then, they have no choice but to be civil.

 

“Hyung, HYUUUUUUNG!” A wailing voice from afar approaches them with exponential speed and ends with Jaebum nearly toppling off his seat with the force of an armful of –

 

“Jackson!”

 

Bambam and Jaebum exclaim at all once, quickly whipping their heads to look at each other with wide eyes.

 

“Bambam?” Jackson peels himself away from Jaebum.

 

Jinyoung looks just as shocked as everyone else at the table.

 

“That older guy you’re dating…it’s Jaebum hyung?”

 

“You two know each other?” Jaebum asks midst the confusion, eyebrows furrowed.

 

“Well…yeah…” Bambam says in awe. Then, his eyes light up with happiness. He’ll have someone to talk to without feeling that awkward tension in the air. “Jackson, come sit with me!” Neither he nor Jackson notices the dropped honorific in their excitement. Jackson has always been quite lenient on it after all, and Bambam tends to get away with it using the foreigner excuse to an extent.

 

But, Jaebum and Jinyoung _do_ notice.

 

“Seriously – what a small world!” Jackson laughs while shuffling over. He makes eye contact with Jinyoung and the two of them quickly look the other way. Then, they realize that they would be sitting next to each other.

 

When all four are seated, a strange blanket of apprehension falls upon their shoulders.

 

-

 

Halfway through the dinner, Bambam realizes with a sinking weight in his stomach just who the people in Jackson’s story were. He glances at both Jaebum and Jinyoung, and for the first time in a while, feels insecure.

 

Jackson is being bright and loud at the table, and he knows it best what that looks like to Jinyoung. The contrast of tonight and their previous dinner together alone is enough to tell Jinyoung where they lie. Jackson is here because of his loyalty to Jaebum – nothing else.

 

Jinyoung analyzes the situation so far – and when it hits him, he can barely contain the lethal anger coursing in his veins. He knew it. Bambam wasn’t someone to be trusted, and he will not allow for Jaebum to fall any deeper. He won’t let anyone hurt Jaebum ever again.

 

Jaebum had only ever had eyes for Bambam since the very beginning – and now, with Bambam cheerfully immersed in Jackson’s funny stories and charisma, it feels like Bambam has been swept into Jackson’s orbit. Like how everyone always does. But, (he clenches his fist beneath the table) this is something he _will not_ lose.

 

-

 

“ _Hyung, there’s something I have to tell you._ ” Jinyoung calls Jaebum the moment he gets home.

 

“Can it wait until tomorrow?” Jaebum clutches his head, mind swirling.

 

“ _No. I’m coming over._ ”

 

Jaebum sighs as Jinyoung hangs up without a goodbye. He leans on the side of his desk in his home office. He looks out the window until he hears the beep of the front door, a sound that signifies entry through fingerprint access. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it was definitely not the sight of a boiling Jinyoung, clutching a manila envelope so hard it’s crumpling at the side.

 

“I’m sorry for coming so late but – I think this is something you need to know as soon as possible.”

 

“What is it, Jinyoung?”

 

The envelope is handed over to him, and the first thing he sees is news about Jackson. Jaebum looks up at Jinyoung in confusion, but is only given a nudge of a chin to continue reading. Jaebum flips through the pages, and it’s all about Jackson’s scandal. The one where he’s allegedly dating someone in Korea. There are grainy photos of Jackson eating out or walking together with someone at night. The person he’s with is tall and slim, but their face is never shown. Jaebum frowns – he doesn’t know what’s wrong with all of this. Of course, Jackson should be able to date whomever he pleases without all this slander, but it doesn’t make sense for Jinyoung to care so much. Jinyoung has said that he doesn’t keep in contact with Jackson anymore due to time and distance, but that they’re on friendly grounds. He shouldn’t be so into Jackson’s relationship status if…

 

“Jinyoung…” Jaebum begins.

 

“I confirmed it,” Jinyoung interrupts him. “I met up with Jackson a while back, and he told me he was in a relationship.”

 

“…That’s great for him. He deserves to be happy.”

 

“I agree. But that’s not all, hyung.” Jinyoung comes over to bring up a picture that Jaebum has barely glanced at. “Look.”

 

Jaebum does look – it’s a picture of Jackson, half-naked, pinning a boy to the wall. He studies the picture further – and his heart stops.

 

“Isn’t it strange that Jackson already knows Bambam? How could they have met?”

 

His hand crinkles the photo, shaking with how tightly he’s clutching it.

 

“That.” Jinyoung points to the boy’s wrist. “Isn’t that what you gave Bambam? Isn’t he the only one who could ever have it?”

 

“…What are you saying, Jinyoung?” Jaebum grits out between his teeth.

 

“It all leads back to him. I think Bambam is cheating on you.”

 

There’s a tense moment where everything stills in the air. It’s quiet, deafeningly so, and the two men fume beneath their skin. Once the clock starts ticking again, so does Jaebum.

 

“…Get out. Before I say something I regret.”

 

“Hyung –!” Jinyoung starts, but immediately shuts up the moment he sees Jaebum’s face.

 

He’s _seething_. Jinyoung hasn’t seen that look on him in years.

 

“ _Get out_.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /BOWS SO HARD MY FACE HITS THE FLOOR. AHHHH IT'S BEEN OVER A MONTH I'M SORRY, DAS A WHOLE NEW ALL-TIME LOW ALSDGASLSLDA. ;n; I hope everyone is still reading this! ...But I also hope nobody read this for the third…fourth…how many times now because I took so long to update HAHA it makes me feel like scum LMAO. 
> 
> So like, while I was in school, I saw a tweet that was basically along the lines of WHO SHIPS THAT [bambam and jaebum] in an accusatory way and I almost burst out laughing in the middle of a quiet study room cause LOLOL….me…….I do………I ship that…..enough to write a whole 100k about it OTL Anyway, the ball is fiiiinally rolling. Jesus. I'm foreseeing about maybe 3 more chapters, and my goal is to finish by the end of my summer break. Watch none of that go to plan, as always LOL. 
> 
> Thank you so so so soooo much for supporting this fic and leaving all forms of kindness and encouragement. ;n; I can't express my grateful heart enough! 
> 
> Also, as a final and completely irrelevant note: hello...it is summer...and I tend to get very bored and lonely. OTL Not to sound like a loser or anything but can y'all believe after nearly two years of being an ahgase, I don't have any ahgase friends??? RIP. Okay, 100% of the problem is because I'm private lmao BUT. If anyone would like to talk to me, I'm @tremmy_chii on twitter!! Maybe if more than one person sends a request I'll consider going public L O L. I'm nice :( and probably just a little annoying :( cause I retweet a lot of Jaebum and Bambam and I get soft easily :( I'm a lonely birb. Birbs are social creatures. Help. Okay that's it, thanks for reading this mess, see you in the next update!


	8. is it real, is it true

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Explicit Sexual Content: (Frottage, Blow Jobs, Rimming)

 

 

(It was dangerous from the start, the two of them. It was something that they knew and yet fell forward anyway, ignoring the world that caved in on them. Jaebum held out his hand, and Bambam took it. It was as simple as that. They were so busy fighting everyone else that they sometimes forgot to focus on themselves. Because slowly, but surely, Jaebum’s grip tightened until it hurt.)

 

-

 

“One regular Americano and one regular chai latte with whipped cream?” The girl at the register, whose name Bambam knows to be Nayeon now, repeats like a mantra right as he steps to the front. He hasn’t even pulled out his wallet yet.

 

“…Yeah,” Bambam nods sheepishly, smiling. Nayeon shoots one back with knowing eyes and punches in the order.

 

“Do you want to add a strawberry croissant to that?”

 

He looks at the display, and sees the dessert sitting right under the colorful banner advertising its new addition to the menu. Bambam agrees, pulling out extra cash to hand over to Nayeon. Once he gets his receipt, he walks away bashfully - clearly, he and Jaebum have been at this cafe way too often if the baristas have their usual order memorized. They don’t have a “claimed” table or anything like that, but it just so happens that they always arrive right before the rush and the one by the view is conveniently open. Sometimes the centerpiece changes, and that’s when Bambam naturally takes out his phone and snaps a picture of his drink next to the cute little succulent or tiny flower. Only part of Jaebum’s arm can be seen in the background, and even then it’s blurred to oblivion, a speck of gold reflective light shining from his expensive watch. Jaebum doesn’t like to pose for pictures much, but it’s okay. It kind of fits the aesthetic of his instagram and still offers a form of documentation of their relationship, albeit subtly.

 

Bambam puts his phone away; he’ll edit and caption it later. When he looks up, he sees a small smile forming on his hyung’s lips, but his eyes are red and his dark circles have been getting increasingly worse. He looks so tired it makes Bambam’s heart ache.

 

Apparently there’s been a lot of work at the company, which Jaebum has only briefly explained before Bambam saw the news for himself. The CEO of Im Financial Group is planning to step down as early as the next year – and it’s obvious who the primary candidate for the next CEO is. Bambam tries not to think too hard about how that will further widen the gap between their statuses. They’re at different parts of their lives right now, but if Bambam is patient, he’ll eventually catch up. Or, well…that’s what he’s been telling himself.

 

Even the way they’re dressed right now is a jarring contrast. Jaebum lives in pressed, slim suits, and today is no different. He has on a classic black Versace suit, made from the finest wool. The weather is a bit warmer than usual, so his jacket is hung on the back of his chair and the sleeves of his crisp white dress shirt are rolled up to reveal his forearms. Meanwhile, all Bambam has on is a loose black t-shirt tucked into distressed denim. It would be a surprisingly minimal outfit from Bambam if it weren’t for his various accessories. Anyway, they must be quite the sight to behold from afar. Between the fashionable young man and the handsome businessman, the only connection they seem to have is their hands on the table.

 

“Did you stay overnight at the office again?” Bambam asks with concern. Jaebum smiles tiredly and avoids the question by slicing down the croissant and holding out a piece for him. Bambam looks at it and then pushes the fork towards Jaebum, forcing him to eat it. “Did you eat anything last night?”

 

The fact that Jaebum has to think about it makes him frown even more. “Yeah, a sandwich or something.”

 

Jaebum has been looking at him weirdly these days; it’s new, and Bambam doesn’t know what to make of it because it’s nothing like what he’s seen before. At first, Bambam associated it with the heavy workload and the mounting stress weighing down his shoulders. But he’s been beginning to think that it’s something else. A few days ago, Bambam stopped staying over because Jaebum would only come home when Bambam was already fast asleep. He also leaves for work before Bambam has to wake up for school, so in the end, Bambam would’ve made the effort to come all the way to the condo where it’s farther to get to university just to not see his hyung at all. He thought it would be a better idea to wait for Jaebum to become freer before continuing to make overnight trips and potentially wasting his time or worse, distracting Jaebum from work. He didn’t think not seeing each other for three days would cause Jaebum to crash into his apartment at midnight with hands crawling up his shirt though.

 

“I missed you,” Jaebum had confessed and held him tight.

 

“It’s only been a few days!” Bambam giggled, shaking his head. He had _just_ texted him good night an hour ago. “What are you going to do without me?”

 

In hindsight, that was probably the wrong thing to say, if the way Jaebum sadly smiled in the darkness was any indication. But at the time, Bambam missed him just as much – and felt so adored and so happy that Jaebum would pull off such dramatics just to see him that he didn’t pay any attention to it and kissed him senseless. Besides, he had much more fun laughing and embarrassing Jaebum when he couldn’t fit into any of Bambam’s bigger pajamas, all of them getting stuck at his thighs. The sight of the cotton stretching taut over his muscles was surprising, to say the least. And then there was the fact that Jaebum couldn’t decide whether to be stubborn and just yank the entire thing up or to give up and sleep in his briefs (which lies many dangers in Bambam’s cramped bed). So there he stood, face red but deep in thought and dressed with a half-buttoned dress shirt and bright blue sweatpants only midway up his thighs.

 

(“…I think they’re stuck,” Jaebum sits down on the bed.

 

“What? No way,” Bambam snorts but gets on his knees anyway, digging his fingers into the material. “Okay, you hold tight – I’m gonna pull. One, two, three!” Bambam yanks the pants, grunting loudly as he uses all of his strength. Unable to move the fabric and losing his grip, he falls backwards and lands on his butt. He widens his eyes in shock and looks up at Jaebum. “Oh my god.”

 

“I told you.”

 

“No – that’s just stupid – you can’t be _stuck_.” Bambam gives it another try, clenching his teeth as he fists at the pants.

 

“I think I’m losing circulation.” Jaebum has the nerve to laugh in the midst of his awry situation.

 

After two more tries, Bambam finally manages to get Jaebum out. He breathes heavily at the workout, groaning but also laughing at how _stupid_ that was. “ _Ugh_ , next time bring your own clothes –!”

 

“Hey, could you keep it down –!” Yugyeom swings the door open and in an instant, his mouth drops in horror. He squeezes his eyes shut and bolts to his room, screaming apologies down the hallway.

 

Bambam and Jaebum stare at the vacant hallway, wondering what just happened. But in Yugyeom’s defense, what he saw in the split second that his eyeballs were functioning was this: clothes all over the floor, Bambam on his knees, Bambam on his knees _in front of Jaebum_ , Bambam on his knees in front of Jaebum _who isn’t wearing any pants_. He _did_ have underwear on – but why would Yugyeom check – _Jesus Christ_.)

 

Anyway, the look comes and goes without a pattern, so Bambam can’t even tell if he’s done something wrong or if Jaebum has something he wants to say. Maybe it’s both.

 

Bambam can’t stay much longer, so they clean up and head out, hugging once before parting ways.

 

“Have a good day; remember to have all your meals!”

 

“I’ll try,” Jaebum answers. There’s a little pause afterwards that makes Bambam feel that it’s not necessarily goodbye yet, so he sits tight and waits for Jaebum to formulate whatever he has to say. “Will you come over tonight?”

 

He can’t help the flash of surprise on his face – it’s been a while since Bambam got an invitation of some sort, more used to popping by whenever ever since Jaebum registered his fingerprint.

 

“Oh – sure. See you then, hyung.”

 

After Bambam crosses the street, he feels compelled to turn around and get one last look of Jaebum. Only, Jaebum hasn’t moved from his spot at all and is in fact looking at him too. Smiles creep up their faces, and Jaebum is the first to wave at him, hand high in the air midst the busy blur of scurrying passers. Bambam waves back obnoxiously, using his whole body to create the motion and relishing in the ensuing embarrassed but amused duck of Jaebum’s head. Bambam can hear his breathless laughter all the way from here; he’s heard it enough times to have the sound stitched onto his heart. He feels like a giddy high school-er as they make “I’ll call you” signs while beginning to walk away, looking straight out of a cheesy drama. Bambam should give them more credit – nothing feels impossible anymore when dating someone like Im Jaebum.

 

Bambam enters the office with what Nana calls the “ugly lovesick” look. And for that, he ends up right next to Hani in listening to her relationship stories for what must be the umpteenth time, comrades in suffering.

 

“I’m not an alcoholic.” Nana squints and points at the two of them, catching them red-handed in their hushed gossiping. They shut up and smile. How perceptive Nana can be even four glasses in is a mystery no one can solve. On days like this, Bambam feels like he’s being paid to be Nana’s therapist.

 

“I don’t think we’re very good ones if we’re enabling her to drink,” Hani frowns.

 

“True,” Bambam mirrors her expression. “But she’s scary when we don’t.”

 

“True,” Hani’s frown deepens right as Nana starts snoring on the couch.

 

-

 

It’s a good thing Jaebum wanted him over tonight, because for the first time in months, Bambam actually has nothing to do. It’s weird to not be hustling with over a million tasks to do, deadlines to meet. It’s probably because the fashion show was the biggest stress-inducing factor in his whole life thus far and now that the hardest part is over, there’s nothing much he can do other than wait for D-day. That, and Yugyeom still has his collection hostage. Bambam both loves and hates him for it.

 

As if Nora can sense Jaebum’s incoming, she leaps off from where she was nested beside Bambam on the couch and sits by the door licking herself clean. Bambam twists his torso to watch her for a moment, but turns back to the TV when no one comes through the door. It’s eight, which is the time Jaebum would normally come home at with the exception of the previous week. Nora must be used to it being that way too.

 

Bambam lazily drapes over the couch, watching a comedy show that he realizes he hasn’t been paying attention to for a while. He switches over to plugging his laptop in for anime, which he is so behind on that many of his favorite shows have already ended their seasons. One episode in, and Jaebum isn’t home yet. He’s probably stuck in traffic or something. Two episodes in, Bambam sends him a text asking if he got off work yet. Halfway through the third, Bambam gets too hungry to be lazy about it anymore, so he heats up the food on the stove and dines alone in the kitchen. At this point, there’s still no word from Jaebum – which ticks off a nerve because even though emergencies do happen, he’d still like to _know_ , you know? Especially because Jaebum should know that he’s waiting for him – _he_ told _Bambam_ to come.

 

At ten, Bambam goes from a little angry to a little worried. Maybe Jaebum hasn’t said anything because he _can’t_. There are lots of possibilities why Jaebum can’t be on his phone. Like his phone dying. Or he lost it somewhere and now he has to go find it. Or maybe his car broke down and he’s stuck at the dealer until someone picks him up. _Or_ someone followed him to his car, smashed his phone to pieces, tied him up at an abandoned warehouse, and is currently holding him for ransom. Oh god. Bambam doesn’t have any money.

 

His worries melt away when he finally hears the sound of the door an hour later. It’s good timing, because Bambam was just a step away from executing his rescue mission of saving his rich and helpless hyung from a dangerous masked man who is probably just depressed and misunderstood. He even prepared a moving speech straight out of City Hunter.

 

“Hyung!” Bambam exclaims. Then, he purses his lips, fighting back the urge to sound nosy and clingy. So the sound just dies off his tongue, falling into a pit of awkwardness now that there’s no follow-up. Jaebum looks at him and swallows as he puts his briefcase aside and lets Bambam burrow into his arms.

 

“Sorry – I got caught up in a lot of work and then I…forgot…”

 

“It’s okay,” Bambam chirps. He’s too busy making himself small enough to curl into the crook of Jaebum’s neck to notice the drop in Jaebum’s expression, the guilt marring his face.

 

Jaebum doesn’t like how he’s easily forgiven. It’s not such a big deal, so he can see how as a one-time thing, Bambam can let it slide. But it makes him feel that Bambam can be taken advantage of if he isn’t careful – that if he gets too used to this kindness, he’ll forget its value and start to be careless. And careless is the last thing he wants to be when it comes to Bambam.

 

He’s been selfish. Ever since Jinyoung planted the seed of doubt into his mind, Jaebum can’t help but scrutinize every moment that they’re not together. He never used to care where Bambam went throughout his day; if it was significant, then Bambam would tell him, and he’d gladly listen to it. But now, his hands ball up whenever he wonders whom Bambam has been with and realizes he doesn’t know. He should be better than that – he’s seen firsthand how loyal and honest Bambam has been to him. Jaebum should trust him more. But _what if_? That shroud of doubt eats away at him from within no matter how many times he tries to convince himself otherwise. It doesn’t make sense for Bambam and Jackson to have that kind of relationship – that’s just madness.

 

Only, Jaebum knows exactly what madness feels like. He knows what it’s like to fall hard and fast, to feel trapped and tormented by a single smile, and to hunger and need for a closeness that can only be shared between two who have become one. If he’s been brought to his knees so easily, who’s to say that another won’t be driven into identical madness?

 

Jaebum wants to escape from these toxic thoughts, and the only way to do so is to confront Bambam about Jinyoung’s bold accusation. He can’t live like this forever, stricken with anger and hurt over unconfirmed infidelity. But despite all of this, Jaebum is afraid too. No matter how slim the possibilities are, the fact that he can’t just dismiss the displayed evidence is frightening. There could be some truth to Jinyoung’s warning. As much as he doesn’t want to believe it, Jinyoung has never betrayed him either.

 

So he’s been selfish. He’s been running away from finding the truth yet wanting to be close to Bambam all at once. If he works long enough, he can avoid talking to Bambam about the answers he’s most desperate for. If Bambam is already asleep, he can slide into the covers with careful steps and a cloak of darkness. By daybreak, the cycle starts again. The only miscalculation he has ever made is underestimating how unbearable the distance is.

 

“You look so stressed,” Bambam worries, pulling him away from his mind. “You’re zoning out pretty bad.”

 

Jaebum gives him a lopsided smile. He can’t deny that the emotional and mental strain has been tremendous in combination with managing the company.

 

“How can I help? Should I run the bath? Maybe fix a snack?” Bambam’s fingers crawl up to rub soothingly at the base of his neck.

 

“No, it’s alright. I just need you.” Jaebum holds him closer, a deep fondness washing over his worries at the sight of Bambam’s slight flush. He still gets shy after all this time and it’s so awfully endearing. It makes Jaebum want to tease him, to draw out that pretty little smile of his and brush his thumb along his cheekbone. It’s probably why he finds himself unconsciously blurting out all of these cheesy words, because Bambam may whine and squirm, but he’ll always light up in happiness. (For a brief second, Jaebum thinks it doesn’t matter who gets draw this kind of reaction out of him, as long as Bambam will always smile, a single flower in eternal bloom. He has the kind of beauty that deserves to be immortal.)

 

Bambam doesn’t know how to respond to that, so he just lifts himself up by the toes and closes his eyes. Jaebum takes his offering immediately, swooping in for a taste of his lips. He’s kissed them enough to know how they feel against his own, fitting together perfectly as effortless as breathing. Despite the numerous times they’ve touched, the magic still persists. Warmth surges through his body, and his chest feels like it’s beating in slow motion, loud and clear in his ears. When they break, it’s with a quiet exhale and lingering reluctance. Bambam descends a mere few centimeters as his feet hit the ground, but it feels like such a great distance when all Jaebum wants is to reel him back in with his clumsy hands.

 

Jaebum goes through multiple feelings in that instance – a tug of war between fierce possessiveness and bleeding selflessness. He wants to trap Bambam by his side and shackle him down so that he can never leave, even if he wants to. But at the same time, he’d do anything to protect him and his happiness, even at his own expense.

 

Bambam holds his hand and he leads him through his own home, ready to push through the door of Jaebum’s bedroom. On the way there, Jaebum abruptly stops, causing him to turn around in surprise.

 

“Actually, I still have a little bit of work to finish up. Go ahead and sleep; I’ll be in my office.” Jaebum cups his cheek, smiling a bit at the bewildered look on Bambam’s face.

 

“Still?” Bambam raises his eyebrows and then quickly forms a deep frown. He can’t tell Jaebum to drop everything and climb into bed with him, as much as he wants to fall asleep with a warm embrace on his back. Jaebum is a busy man. It wouldn’t be right of him to demand his presence just because he’s been so spoiled prior to Jaebum’s incoming inheritance.

 

But, that doesn’t mean Bambam can’t join him in his office.

 

“Okay. Can I stay with you? I’ll be quiet,” he pouts.

 

It’s Jaebum’s turn to raise his eyebrows. “Isn’t it late? You should go get some rest while you can. Didn’t you always complain about getting no sleep while working on your dresses?”

 

“But I miss you,” Bambam confesses, and Jaebum finds his gut twisting. “If I sleep now, I’ll only have seen you for half an hour in the morning – and you told me to wait for you, hyung. You always leave so early, too.”

 

And Bambam looks so genuinely disheartened, his voice so small, that Jaebum feels incredibly stupid for thinking that…

 

He doesn’t even want to finish the thought.

 

“I’m sorry,” Jaebum apologizes, for much more than meets the surface. “I’ll be better. You can come sit by my desk, if you’d like.”

 

Jaebum flies through his papers as he waits for Bambam to settle in, skimming through policies and feeling thankful once again for Jinyoung’s meticulous notes on their many clients. There are so many of them that it’s hard to keep track nowadays, especially since they’re expanding the business overseas to Japan. His father had already started the construction a year ago in Tokyo – but now it’s up to him to make sure it stays.

 

Bambam is waiting for the tea to boil in the kitchen; other than that, he’s already pulled in a chair and left his sketchbook on a cleaned out corner of Jaebum’s wide desk. When he first tailed behind Jaebum and entered the office, it was with amazed and curious eyes. It came to Jaebum then that Bambam had never stepped inside despite the countless times he’s been alone inside his home. It was an oddly touching discovery, to find out that Bambam respected his privacy in such a quiet way. There’s nothing special or anything to hide, but it’s still nice to know that Bambam would only go into places that Jaebum had explicitly allowed him to.

 

Bambam nudges the door open wider with his foot, carefully walking in with two cups of steaming hot black tea. When he finally sets them down with a sigh of relief, Jaebum lets out an amused huff of laughter, seeing the reason why he came in at a snail’s pace. The cups are filled to the brim – it’s a miracle he didn’t spill any on his trip here.

 

“The kettle lied to me,” Bambam explains with angry, puffed cheeks. “The water looked so little, I thought I could fit everything in.” He stretches his hands, strained from clutching so tightly on the cup handles.

 

“Thank you for your valiant journey,” Jaebum teases him with a grin that bares his teeth.

 

Bambam straightens his back and plays along, pulling on a smug smirk. “Of course. Look at the clean sides – I’m a legend.”

 

Jaebum’s home office looks more like a library than anything else, especially with all the ceiling-high mahogany bookshelves lining the walls. Bambam can tell which books are his favorites because they’re carefully displayed in the center with the hardcover well worn. He has a smaller sofa in the middle of the room that faces an electric fireplace and sits atop a fluffy wine-colored rug. The lights are yellow, warm and dimly glowing. There’s a specific mood in the room that calls for quiet and comfort, which Bambam supposes would help greatly in concentrating on work. But personally, he’d be much more likely to knock out on the sofa instead. It just seems so inviting, especially combined with the mental image of the flames flickering, some tea, and hopefully Nora curled into his belly. Bambam blinks rapidly, chasing the sleepiness off. He picks up his pen and starts drawing cat-themed children’s clothes, just for fun.

 

While their tea cools, Jaebum flips through his work with conviction. Now that Bambam is right beside him, it feels like such a chore, a _waste_ to be stuck here finishing up some trade documents when he could be spending his time better with Bambam. But then again, he definitely brought this upon himself. Jaebum had swiped the folder up, promising Jinyoung that he could finish it by tomorrow with the intention of running away from Bambam. He regrets the decision completely, aching to brush away Bambam’s bangs so he can admire the beauty mark that rests beneath his left eye. He also wants to know what Bambam’s been up to, what his next goals are after the fashion show.

 

About half an hour later, Jaebum notices Bambam’s eyelids drooping and his pen slowing down. He might’ve been tracing the same lines for a while now, if the bold streak of ink is any indication.

 

“Baby,” Jaebum calls him softly, as to not startle him. “You should go to bed.”

 

But the sound of his voice seems to wake Bambam up.

 

“Mm? No…it’s okay.” Bambam rubs his eyes and grabs his now lukewarm tea, sipping slowly. He flips to a new page of his sketchbook and starts a rough outline of a woman. Jaebum sighs and looks back down at the paper in his hand.

 

Not fifteen minutes later, Bambam is dozing off again, staring blearily at nothing and his hand at a standstill. Jaebum can’t concentrate either, his eyes drawing worriedly towards Bambam, afraid that he’ll fall off the chair or bump his head on the desk. It takes them both by surprise when Nora, appearing seemingly out of nowhere, climbs up onto the desk with one agile leap and a swish of her tail. She bumps against Bambam’s tea, sending it sloshing over his hand before the cup rotates and sends the liquid to seep into one of Jaebum’s manila envelopes.

 

Bambam yelps, eyes flying open as he jerks his hand towards himself. Jaebum is up and looming over his side in an instant, hastily snatching a handful of tissues to press on his wet hand.

 

“Are you okay? Did you burn?”

 

“I’m okay,” Bambam quickly assures him. His eyes are wide and his heart is pounding from the abrupt wake up call. “It’s not hot – I was just surprised.” His gaze catches onto the mess on the desk and he gasps, slipping away from Jaebum’s tender hands. The cup was only half full, so there’s not enough to soil everything Jaebum was working on. In fact, nearly everything remained safe from the pool of tea, but one unlucky envelope seemed to suck up all of the damage. “Oh no – it’s all wet!” Bambam picks it up and tries to salvage it.

 

Jaebum tears his attention away from Bambam once he’s confirmed that he’s not hurt. Nora seems unfazed by the entire situation, sitting pretty on Jaebum’s abandoned chair. Jaebum tuts at her but still strokes her head after cleaning up his desk. It’s impossible to get mad at Nora.

 

He tosses the wet tissues into the trash, catching Bambam pulling out the contents of the manila envelope from the corner of his eyes. Whatever is in there, it’s probably not a big deal. He can always reprint them or pull out new forms from his real office at the company headquarters.

 

But Jaebum sees the blank, hard look in Bambam’s eyes and suddenly his throat dries up and tightens, a trickle of fear slipping down his spine.

 

“Bambam,” he starts carefully. “Give me that.” His hand reaches out.

 

A flicker of anger lights up his eyes, and his rejection of Jaebum’s imperative is made clear by a subtle turn of his body. Bambam is wide-awake now, for more reasons than one. He doesn’t know what to feel upon seeing all of these pictures of him and Jackson. The pictures may be dark and blurry, but it’s not hard to recognize himself when he clearly knows the context of each of them. Waves of confusion muddle his mind as he slides through the photos – articles, too. Why would Jaebum collect any of these? How could he have gotten them? There are some that Bambam hasn’t even seen online before. Jackson always apologizes to him whenever something new comes out to the public, but he’s been good at protecting his identity and covering him up whenever Jackson wants a snack and company at night.

 

“What _is_ this?” Bambam’s voice quakes. He snaps his head up towards Jaebum, who looks just as alert and scared as he does. No one says anything for a minute, and Bambam’s breath hitches in between. “Did you hire someone to _follow_ me?”

 

“ _What?_ No!” Jaebum barks. “I wouldn’t ever stoop so low.” His jaw clenches tight. They stare at each other in the eye, a ridge forming between them. Something sharp and painful points at their throats, causing their breathing to shallow and their thoughts to run rampant.

 

 _Why is he so defensive?_ They think.

 

“Hyung, what does this mean?” Bambam forces himself to ask.

 

“Don’t you know better than I do?” Jaebum asks back.

 

Bambam furrows his eyebrows and feels an itch of irritation. “No – why would I?” He presses further, “What are you getting at?”

 

“I…” Jaebum starts but doesn’t finish. His forehead is creased by the intensity of his sour thoughts. He takes a deep breath and whispers painfully. “I’ve been having doubts.”

 

Doubts? Bambam stares harder at his hyung. What kind of doubts? Are they so important that they’ve been affecting his health? But what do they have anything to do with this –

 

Bambam looks down at the photos in his hands and the realization hits him hard. He drops them onto Jaebum’s desk immediately, finding that the real burn has been in his hands the entire time. More than anything, he feels a sharp pain pierce his chest, and the fire, the thorns that follow, hurts so much that he has to take a moment to remind himself how to breathe. Jaebum doesn’t trust him. He feels so betrayed, so stunned by this fact. He thought he had done nothing but show much he’s serious and wholehearted in their relationship. He’s – he’s given _everything_.

 

“…Do you believe it, hyung? That I would do that to you?” Bambam’s voice quivers. His eyes flicker straight into Jaebum’s, and the look in them then is a look that Jaebum will never forget. It’s red with raw anguish, a sight that scorches away the phantom fears lurking within him and sears a new one in: Bambam, hurt and brought to tears.

 

He’s made a mistake.

 

“Do you think I’m insincere? Do you think I can just tell anyone I like them and pretend I’m theirs? Do you think I just fall for any handsome face, no matter who it is?”

 

 _No_. The word is on the tip of his tongue and yet no amount of strength can bring him to say it. Jaebum is frozen – stricken by the gravity of his foolish doubts.

 

“Hyung, you _know_ I’ve been giving you my all.” _Don’t you?_ “I know I’ve always been the one hindering our progression because I’m scared of so many things but can’t you see that I’m trying to overcome them because I want to be with you?” Bambam chokes on the last few words, but he’s panicking and he’s rambling, tumbling down with so many emotions he can’t stop from bursting with all his worries. “I know I’m young and I’m such a handful ‘cause I have so much to learn but it doesn’t mean that my feelings for you aren’t real…”

 

A single tear falls down his cheek and Bambam angrily wipes it away.

 

“And I’m not even that kind of person – hyung, you’re literally the _one_! Isn’t Jackson hyung your friend too? How could you doubt the _both_ of us like that? What lead you to this? The media always sensationalizes all these rumors anyway!”

 

This time, it’s Jaebum who is the quicker one to react to the second spillage of tears, stepping in with a single stride and wrapping an arm around Bambam. His thumb wipes away the wetness, never mind the fact that he’s also beginning to water. Bambam pushes at him weakly, half wishing for space and half wavering at the familiarity of being in his strong embrace. Jaebum pulls him closer, rendering any resistance useless. When it becomes clear that Jaebum won’t let go no matter what, Bambam whimpers and stops struggling. He loops his arms around his neck and clings on tight.

 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Jaebum strokes his back, murmuring the apologies into his ear. Bambam swallows down the lump rising in his throat. “I’ve been dumb and insecure. You bring out the worst in me because I just – you’re just so precious to me that I’m deathly afraid of losing you. You keep saying you’re so young – but comparably, aren’t I so old? What are you doing, wasting your youth on an old man like me?”

 

Bambam lifts up his face, eyes wide and vision blurry. Is it his own tears that are making Jaebum look so worn and weary as he reveals his worries for the first time?

 

“I try so hard to keep you mine lest someone else comes up and sweeps you away. They say first loves don’t last. And yet here I am, selfishly wanting to be your first _and_ your last.”

 

Bambam’s heart stops.

 

What – what does he _mean_ – _what_ –

 

“And I don’t think you’re a handful. You’re innocent, yes, but you’re not _naïve_. You have the reins to your own future and you’re not afraid to do what you want. I would say, that’s a whole lot more mature than I was when I was twenty-one.” Jaebum gives him a small smile.

 

Bambam is still looking wildly at him, stuck on his previous words and barely catching onto the rest. Jaebum’s smile wanes and he apologizes again. His expression continues to sink as Bambam takes his time in making a recovery.

 

Finally, not knowing what else to ask or say, he blurts out, “I’m not cheating on you.”

 

Jaebum stills, cutting off what was probably his thousandth apology. They stare at each other for a bit, blinking blankly. It’s odd, feelings that is. It’s crazy how anger and hurt can dissipate within just a few seconds with the right words. Nora makes her exit. It seems like the soap opera’s over.

 

Jaebum grins, a bit of laughter leaving his happy soul. “I know.”

 

Bambam narrows his eyes. “Do you? Do you really know?”

 

“Yeah,” Jaebum hums.

 

“Good,” Bambam nods. Then, he scowls and bends his torso back in distaste. “I can’t believe I’m dating an _idiot_.” Jaebum looks stupefied. “I cried so much – you’re going to be held responsible tomorrow when I wake up looking like I just had plastic surgery!”

 

Jaebum almost spits out his laughter, but Bambam masks his amusement and continues complaining.

 

“My lips increase like, _tenfold_ when I cry!” Bambam puckers up to prove his point. “I already get questioned on the daily on where I get my lip injections done! This slander!”

 

“You have a very good doctor,” Jaebum snickers.

 

Bambam gasps, scrambling out of his hold. “Oh, now you’ve crossed the line. I’m going home.”

 

“In that?”

 

He looks down at his polka dot matching pajamas. “Yeah.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Try me,” Bambam squints and challenges. He marches towards the exit and gets only as far at the door, Jaebum’s deep laughter ringing beside his ear as he traps Bambam into a back hug.

 

“Stay.” Jaebum kisses his neck.

 

“No.”

 

“Please?”

 

“No.”

 

“Do you want sushi tomorrow?”

 

“…Keep talking.”

 

Bambam steps on both of Jaebum’s feet and then they waddle into the bedroom.

 

“Salmon. Tuna. Eel.” Jaebum wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

 

Bambam moans excessively and barely holds in his laughter as he utters, “Talk dirty to me.”

 

Jaebum stops them in their tracks, pausing for a beat before he says breathily, “ _All you can eat_.”

 

They both collapse on the nearest wall, cracking up until their stomachs hurt. Jaebum, of course, gives up on getting any more work done for the night, leaving it open on his desk all the way until morning. Bambam washes his face for the second time while Jaebum takes a quick shower because he can already feel his eyelids swelling up. He curls into bed, feeling exceptionally tired after all that emotional exertion. But still, he waits for Jaebum to come back and turn off the lights before closing his eyes. The way they press together back to chest and tangle their legs is an instinct that comes naturally, a habit that has formed from repetition. Bambam has even developed some kind of tolerance for Jaebum’s breathing on the nape of his neck, which he used to run away from because it felt too ticklish and too close to home on that sensitive part of his skin.

 

After what seem like hours later, Bambam whispers quietly to the room, “Hyung?”

 

“Yeah?” Jaebum sounds completely awake, as if he didn’t try to sleep at all.

 

Bambam didn’t actually have anything to say; he just felt like calling out his name for some inexplicable reason. But now that he has his hyung’s attention, it’s a pity to let it go. So he takes another moment to think a little.

 

“I don’t think you’re too old for me. I don’t think anyone can compare to you at all. It would be nice if you could have more confidence.”

 

The covers rustle as Jaebum lifts himself up with his elbows, hovering over Bambam. Bambam turns to lie on his back.

 

“Thank you.” Jaebum leans down. Bambam holds his breath in anticipation. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

This kiss is different, filled with a little bit more promise.

 

-

 

(“Come in.”

 

Jinyoung steps inside with another stack of papers requiring Jaebum’s signature of authorization. He sets it down neatly on Jaebum’s desk and pulls out his trusted journal, still a little old school in his methods for note keeping even though he has a perfectly functioning tablet. Jaebum is by the paper shredder as Jinyoung reads him his schedule.

 

When he finishes and Jaebum gives him a hum to confirm that he’s been listening, Jinyoung peers curiously at his hands, wondering why Jaebum would be so occupied with such a menial task.

 

 _Ah_.

 

Strips of film and article prints fly into the trashcan.

 

After Jaebum feeds the last photo in, he grabs his suit jacket and swings it over his shoulder.

 

“Meeting at ten, right? I’ll be back,” Jaebum smiles, heading out.

 

Jinyoung smiles too, but lingers for a second at the sight of his evidence resting in pieces. He turns and heads for the door as well – can’t keep Jaebum waiting, since he’s holding the door and all. He looks into Jaebum’s eyes and knows that Jaebum knows what he’s seen.

 

_I see._

 

“Have a nice break, hyung.”)

 

-

 

If even Jimin is reduced to silence, then Bambam knows that he has on a good outfit. Changkyun looks especially shook, as if he had never considered that a man could wear something like that. Well. Bambam never considered it either, but he’s been feeling adventurous. Because fashion.

 

“Wow,” Changkyun says flatly.

 

“Thanks,” Bambam leans smugly on the bar’s counter, crossing his long legs on the stool and bringing further attention to the object at question.

 

Jimin twists towards Yugyeom and simply throws her hands in the air with scandalized eyes. Yugyeom just looks weak, at this point. “You let him out of the house like that?!”

 

“You know I never win against him.”

 

“He looks – _rude_! Offensive! To my eyeballs!” But it doesn’t stop her from ogling.

 

Bambam looks dangerously good tonight. His hair is swept up, bangs curled to the front of his face. His usual hoop earrings have been replaced by a single drop earring on his left ear that glitters in the flashing lights. His makeup is done considerably darker to fit the clue scene, and the way his smoked out lash line flutters to reveal soft gray contacts makes it easy to mesmerize onlookers. He’s smoothed and faded out a peachy tint on his lips that matches the blush carrying across his cheeks and even over his nose bridge. It’s his first time trying out this new trend, and he’s pleased to see that it makes him look flirty and coy whenever he so much as smiles. Bambam has on a plain black muscle tee with armholes wide enough to see his sides - but that’s not the problem here. The problem is his low-rise ripped jeans and high-waisted fishnets.

 

“I have it hard too!” Yugyeom whines. (Changkyun spits out his drink.) “All these guys keep approaching him and when they see me, they think _I’m_ his boyfriend or something. I’ve never gotten so many nasty looks in my life.”

 

“That’s because you keep hovering over me,” Bambam supplies while playing with his empty glass.

 

Yugyeom squints at Bambam. “As if I’m going to let those sketchy hooligans try anything.”

 

Jimin rolls her eyes while Bambam coos at Yugyeom, loudly exclaiming how much he loves his best friend until Yugyeom blushes and shoves at his shoulder to stop.

 

“Bambam’s a big boy now. He doesn’t need any protection.” Changkyun winks with his mouth open. Bambam laughs and sends him a knowing look.

 

“Bambam?” Jimin scoffs. “He’s a _baby._ He’s not big.”

 

Bambam swivels on his stool, dramatically stopping in Jimin’s direction with a creepy grin that completely destroys his sexy image. “How you know? _How do you know I’m not big_?”

 

That actually earns him a smack, which Yugyeom does not dare intervene because only fools stand in the way of Jimin’s wrath. Changkyun laughs to the point of tears on the side.

 

“Did you hear from Kookie? Or Minghao? They’re late,” Yugyeom asks Changkyun.

 

“They’re coming soon. Or so they said when I got ready to leave.”

 

Yugyeom nods and leaves it at that. When he looks back at Bambam and Jimin, the two have already made up and are giggling over some exclusive secret. They sneak a glance at one of the guys on the dance floor and it looks like Bambam is encouraging her to go talk to him. One of the greatest things about Bambam is how he can fit in with both the guys and the girls, switching back and forth with ease. He’s a great friend – if you just get past the stupid jokes. (Luckily, Yugyeom loves stupid jokes.)

 

“C’mon – let’s go!” Bambam bounces off his seat, excitedly pulling Jimin’s hand. She flushes and shakes her head rapidly, surprising Yugyeom and Changkyun. They haven’t seen that shy part of her since…ever. She looks at them for help, but that just gives Bambam the idea to drag them into whatever it is he’s planning too. “Hey! Come dance with Jimin. Let’s fetch her the boy of her dreams!” Bambam points to the masses, but neither Yugyeom nor Changkyun can see whom he’s talking about. Jimin looks like she’s about to scream.

 

“Uh, I’m good, thanks. I’ll fold down the fort,” Changkyun pats the counter with a smile.

 

“Me, too.” Yugyeom slides into a seat. “I want to wait for Kookie.”

 

“Not going to hover?” Changkyun makes helicopter noises.

 

“If anything, Jimin’s more likely to start swinging than I will ever be.”

 

“Fine, suit yourselves.” Bambam tugs on Jimin’s hand. “We haven’t got time to waste. Soonyoung, right?”

 

“ _Seungyoun._ ”

 

“Seunghoon,” Bambam nods firmly. And then into the crowd they go, before Jimin can correct him.

 

Jimin is pretty tiny even with her heels, so Bambam tries to take on most of the pushing as he navigates them to her crush. He gets the wrong boy though, so Jimin ends up scowling and pulling them to the right boy herself while Bambam smiles in amusement. So, she’s not as reluctant to start something as she made it seem.

 

With their target on lock right in front of them, Bambam and Jimin begin swaying to the music, although Jimin more awkwardly so. She seems unsure of herself, so Bambam tries to make it fun for her by humiliating himself with weird dance moves that has her squealing and laughing. It’s probably not the most attractive way of getting a boy’s attention, but they’re having so much fun playing around they almost forget about the main mission. It takes more than a few songs for Jimin to muster up some courage. At first, the slow beat was too sensual - she wasn’t bold enough to try and act sexy, oh god forbid. Then, the next song was too hype, and all she (and Bambam) knew how to do was fist pump along with the herd.

 

And now – “This is my favorite song!!” Jimin gasps and yells too close to Bambam’s face. Bambam draws backwards with a face of disgust that creates a double chin. His eyes catch on to Seunghoon’s (Seungyoun’s) dancing figure a few feet in front of them and takes in how enthusiastically he’s bopping to the same song that Jimin is naturally letting loose to. Bambam raises an eyebrow and then looks at them back and forth until a smile stretches across his face.

 

“Jimin, go! This is your chance!” Bambam tells her over the music. She stops and whips around, as if forgetting why she was here to begin with. They both watch as Seungyoun’s friend leaves the scene, opening up a big opportunity.

 

“What – what do I say?” Jimin claws at her dress.

 

“Just say hi!” Bambam nudges her forward. “Tell him this is your favorite song.” He can see her wavering, so he adds a warning. “Hurry – the song’s going to end soon.”

 

Jimin balls up her fists (and for a split second, Bambam thought she was going to punch him) and straightens her back. “I’m gonna do it!”

 

“You’re gonna do it!” Bambam encourages.

 

“I’m! Gonna! Do it!” She squeezes past the few people in her way and Bambam watches her go with a happy heart.

 

He’s about to turn around and make his way out of the dance floor when he hears a voice rise above the music.

 

“HI! THIS IS MY FAVORITE SONG!”

 

Seungyoun jumps, eyes wide at the small girl who just yelled at him.

 

Bambam laughs behind his hand, but he knows Jimin doesn’t need any rescuing when he sees Seungyoun softening and replying to her with a shy smile that causes her to beam despite her red, squishy face. Well, then. Bambam mentally pats himself on the back. He’ll consider that a job well done.

 

Bambam stays on the dance floor for a little longer, not because he’s watching over Jimin – though he might as well, since he’s already here – but because the crowd is thickening as the Saturday night settles in and he already feels tired at the thought of having to maneuver to the bar. He rocks lightly to the music, but it’s not as fun to dance alone. Maybe everyone has arrived now; hopefully they’re not doing anything fun without him, like daring Changkyun to snag a free drink out of the bartender. Bambam looks around and – oh. It’s getting quite heated up in here. The more people start to pair up, the more he thinks it’s time for him to leave and find entertainment elsewhere. He slides past an unaware couple and a few groups, but it looks like a long way out. Bambam hears cheering up on the balcony and hopes that it’s not his friends. The staircase is in the opposite direction.

 

Eventually, he gets blocked by an annoying group that refuses to move. Bambam turns to change direction, but when he does, he suddenly bumps right into someone’s front.

 

“Sorry –!” Bambam starts, but stops when he sees whom it is. “Oh, _hyung._ ” He tilts his head and smiles sweetly.

 

“What, I don’t get a proper apology?” Jaebum cocks an eyebrow, snaking an arm around Bambam’s waist and drawing him in close.

 

“Oh please,” Bambam rolls his eyes, giggling a bit when Jaebum brushes his nose with his. “You’d take any sorry excuse to bump into me.”

 

“I think your ego is getting a bit too big for my liking,” Jaebum scrunches his nose.

 

“You can always prove me wrong by taking your hands off me.”

 

For a moment, neither of them moves. And so Bambam laughs, knowing he’s won but still appeasing Jaebum nonetheless with a greeting that he knows both of them have been waiting for. He leans up, gently kissing Jaebum and sighing inwardly in content when Jaebum sucks on his bottom lip and leaves teasing, small licks on his parting lips. Being this close, Bambam can smell the scent of his cologne, all woodsy and nostalgic of their first encounter. He smells – Bambam grips the side of his arms, pressing closer and letting Jaebum feel the pound of his heart – _wonderful_.

 

“Lovely,” Jaebum whispers against his lips, and Bambam shivers despite not being able to hear him with the music playing so loud. “You’re lovely.”

 

Bambam lets him have one last kiss before they intertwine their fingers and head out of the dance floor. Bambam is about to head towards the bar when Jaebum tugs on their linked hands and jerks his head towards the staircase.

 

“Come on. I got us a private room.”

 

“You did?” Bambam gasps, letting his hyung lead the way. “When did you arrive?”

 

“Probably a little bit after you left with Jimin. Yugyeom said you were being out there being her wingman.”

 

“Oh. Were Jungkook and Minghao there?”

 

Jaebum nods. “There was a third too – Mingyu.”

 

“Mingyu!” Bambam’s eyebrows shoot up. “Wow,” he utters in awe. Someone managed to get past Minghao’s defense mechanisms? Impressive. “What did you guys do up there?”

 

“Just – talked. Though I think they were trying to get a dirty scoop on you out of me.”

 

“Fakes. All of them.”

 

“Don’t worry. I distracted them with a round of drinks while I snuck out to get you.”

 

Bambam looks at Jaebum and signals for a fist bump. Truly, the best hyung.

 

Jaebum gives him what he wants just as they start ascending the stairs – and it just so happens that Bambam’s leg has lifted enough to draw Jaebum’s attention for the first time that night, causing him to almost tumble down with the shock of what he’s seen. Now, Jaebum has seen Bambam in various pairs of ripped and distressed jeans, but never has he seen a pair come so close to being questionable in passing for pants. There are multiple cutouts on his thighs that leave nothing to the imagination, one especially so high up that Jaebum is already clenching his free hand into a fist for self-control. What’s killer is the bold, black fishnet tights clinging onto the delicate golden skin, wrapping him from his toes to – apparently, his waist, as shown by the revealing armholes of his tank. Jaebum swallows thickly, attacked by the rushing images of what Bambam must look like without his jeans.

 

Suddenly, their intertwined hands feels like a trap, a deliberate ploy to leave him itching, _hungry_ with the desire to slip his fingers into Bambam’s shirt and play with the thick waistband of his tights for everyone to see. Except – his eyes darken, sweeping over Bambam’s figure – no one should be able to see Bambam’s erotic body language or his sinful expressions as he is worked into pliancy. That’s for Jaebum, and Jaebum alone.

 

“Eyy! Missed me?” Bambam opens the door with a flare, but his face turns into a frown when it seems like half of the group is already a step away from knocking out. Only Yugyeom greets him with a happy wave by the rails of the balcony, ever the resident driver.

 

“The room is spinning,” Changkyun says towards the ceiling.

 

“Don’t mind him. He just choked on a cherry and now thinks the world is out to get him.”

 

Jaebum and Bambam nod slowly, stepping over Changkyun’s body on the floor and settling into an open leather armchair. Jaebum sits down first and then, with his thighs spread, pats one of them lightly to beckon Bambam into his lap. Bambam blushes, deepening the color already dusted over his cheeks. He hides it by complying and acting like it’s a natural thing to do even in the eyes of his friends. Though to be fair, the only pair of eyes still sober is Yugyeom’s, and his are occupied with Jungkook’s as Jungkook, tipsy, rambles about the art of bowling.

 

Bambam sits on the edge at first, but then Jaebum simply reels him in with a lift of his hips and now they’re completely touching. Jaebum rests his chin on Bambam’s shoulder, one hand on the base of his stomach and another on top of a strip of denim on his right thigh. Bambam’s breath hitches as Jaebum gives him a squeeze, thumb hooking into the cutout. As he squirms in response, his ass rubs against Jaebum’s crotch. Bambam feels rather than hears the deep and pleased hum coming from behind. His eyes genuinely widen, not expecting Jaebum to be so brash.

 

“… _Hyung_!” He squeaks behind a hand.

 

He’ll admit to it; he chose to wear this outfit specifically because he knew Jaebum would show up tonight, and nothing sounded better at the time than the thought of teasing him all night long where he wouldn’t dare to try anything funny. Only…

 

Bambam peers through his fingers.

 

Only, he didn’t account for his friends to be so irresponsible as to get wasted in such a short amount of time. Jungkook has the highest tolerance out of all of them, and if even he’s (horribly) flirting with Yugyeom through liquid courage, then it’s no wonder that Changkyun is on the floor. At least they’re safer up here. Who knows what would happen down at the center of the club?

 

Now, Jaebum has all the cards in his hands, ready to play.

 

Bambam drums his fingers nervously on the chair, turning his head to face his hyung. He shivers at the sight of his sharp, glowing eyes and the borderline animalistic way he bites his lip. Jaebum drags it out until it’s white beneath his teeth, leaving his bottom lip red where it’s been raked with harshness. Bambam wants to lean in and soothe it with his tongue, but he can’t find it in him to make a move – not when they’re still so out in the open. This isn’t like anything on the dance floor, where being surrounded by so many nameless faces would give them a sense of privacy. Here, Bambam is still with his friends, and as shameless as he normally presents himself, he wouldn’t go as far as… _frottage_. Or so he thinks.

 

Jaebum sinks another finger into his jeans, rubbing along the soft skin of his inner thigh. As subtly as he can, he rolls his hips upwards, right in between where Bambam’s cheeks would be. Bambam bounces a little in his lap, and the tease of the ride to come has Jaebum’s length twitching in his pants, slowly beginning to harden.

 

Bambam bites back a gasp, searching the eyes of everyone in the room to see if anyone’s noticed. No one did, but he feels embarrassed nonetheless, heart racing at the possibility of Yugyeom turning around or Jimin bursting through the door with good news. He lays his hand over Jaebum’s, hoping that it will at least cover the fact that Jaebum is toying with his tights underneath. The hand that has been on his stomach presses down harder, making his insides lurch with the desire for Jaebum to sneak his hand under his shirt, maybe past his jeans, and circle around the base of his hair. Bambam decides to peck his cheek and put on a smile.

 

“Should we go home, hyung?”

 

Jaebum’s eyes flicker up from where he was concentrated on the tight squeeze of Bambam’s thighs on his fingers, a futile attempt of preventing him from travelling higher. He feigns a smile just as sweet as Bambam’s, though the intensity of his dark eyes tells another story. “But baby, we just got here.”

 

Bambam’s smile freezes on his face, and he almost falls out of his seat when the door opens to reveal, indeed, Jimin coming in with good news. More of their acquaintances file in as well, livening up the room and actually managing to shake Changkyun awake. Other than the quick glance of Bambam and Jaebum sitting _intimately_ together, no one really raises an eyebrow in alarm or blushes with realization. And that’s what riles Bambam up even more – how can they not… _know_? But perhaps that’s just a matter of perspective. Obviously, no one else but him can feel the half-hard cock grinding up on his bottom or the hot breath fanning down on his neck. It makes Bambam wonder – with a bit of excitement, despite his embarrassment – just how far they can take this.

 

Jimin excitedly tells him all about what happened after she finally picked up the courage to go talk to Seungyoun. (Bambam gets it right, finally.) She got his number, she announces while happily waving her phone. But she didn’t want to leave them hanging or anything – this is supposed to be a friends’ night out. Jaebum responds eagerly to her story, causing her mood to go up even more. It’s pretty cute, actually, how they starting to interact like a brother and sister. Bambam would be happier about this if it wasn’t for the fact that he would do anything to get her to leave them alone right now.

 

The problem is solved quickly when Jaebum tells her to put any drink she wants on his tab, making her rush to order an expensive (but not too expensive, because courtesy) drink. Once Jungkook pulls open the glass door separating the private room from the balcony, the music from below bursts in with impressive sound quality. They’re left alone again as everyone else starts to mingle and catch up.

 

Jaebum gets bolder, thrusting up more frequently while Bambam hangs on for dear life. He’s getting hard too, and it fills him with exhilaration when he finally gets frustrated enough to grind back on Jaebum and cause him to grunt next to his ear. When Jaebum fulfills his desire of slinking his hand underneath Bambam’s tank and snapping his waistband against his skin, Bambam asks him once again to go home. Jaebum just gives him an evasive smile and mutters, “Not yet.”

 

They continue toying with each other like this. Bambam though, gets more worked up as the night passes by. Not only is he straining in his jeans, but he also has to cover up for the both of them, putting on a straight face and pursing his lips to suppress breathy moans. At least Jaebum gets to be pleasured.

 

“Hyung, please?” Bambam tries again weakly. A faint veil of sweat rests on his neck and down his back. The heat of their bodies touching is unbearable, but not enough. Bambam needs so much more than this.

 

“Baby, what’s the rush?” Jaebum lightly sucks on the weak spot on the curve of his shoulder. Bambam really squeaks at this, flushing deeply and praying it went unheard. “I could spend all night with you like this,” he smirks.

 

Oh _god_ , no.

 

Bambam can feel the dread in his gut at the thought of letting this torture run on all night. He determinedly twists his body on Jaebum’s lap to face him directly, pulling on a miserable, pouty face.

 

“But, _hyung_ ,” he whines. “I’ve been waiting all night to show you how pretty I look.”

 

“You’ve been plenty beautiful; you always are.”

 

“You haven’t seen me in just these fishnets.”

 

That gets Jaebum to stop, to glaze his eyes over with filthy images. Bambam takes this opportunity to run his hand lightly down Jaebum’s chest and flutter his lashes suggestively.

 

“Don’t you want to see them?”

 

-

 

Jaebum is a lot like Nora in some ways, such as their penchant for doing the least when given the chance. Bambam has never seen Jaebum move so fast. He feels like he’s caught up in a tornado as Jaebum lifts him up to his feet and grabs all of his belongings, barely shouting back a goodbye as he races down the stairs with Bambam in tow. The drive back to his condo is speedy and risky, and while Bambam is partially amused, most him is scared for his life and thinking how he’ll probably never do this again (theory to be tested).

 

When they barge into the house in the middle of the night, stumbling over the shoes at the front door, Jaebum already has Bambam trapped in his arms and they’re kissing feverishly without a care for the lights. He backs Bambam up against the wall, panting with need as he dives in and licks greedily into Bambam’s open, wet mouth, rumbling with satisfaction as he draws out a little mewl. Their hands are flying all over each other with desperation, the long, long wait finally over.

 

Bambam lets him do whatever he wants with his mouth, sucking and biting on his plump lips while Bambam ruts against Jaebum’s thigh. Bambam makes these small, wilted noises from the back of his throat that always drives Jaebum crazy, fueling his wild frenzy for more of his skin, more of his sweet taste. And – Jaebum sighs, so deeply, his shoulders shake – Bambam is a decadent, delicate treat to be worshipped and savored, a pleasure to beautifully wreck. He’ll never ever get enough of him, a perfect vice he’ll risk everything to indulge.

 

Their lips slide together hotly and persistently as they grind their hips together, moaning as they can feel each other growing into full hardness. Jaebum has his hands tight on Bambam’s waist, suddenly moving up to rub circles on his nipples. Bambam throws his head back at the stimulation, leaning forwards and closing his eyes as he takes in the blissful sensation of Jaebum working him up to mindless pleasure. He slips his hand between their hips and cups Jaebum’s length through his pants, licking his lips as he traces the outline with his fingers.

 

Jaebum bucks in his hand then, hissing as the touch sends molten heat straight down to his cock. Bambam can feel him pulsing in his hand, and just the feeling of that has him keening with want. He continues to touch his hyung up and down, putting more force in his palm whenever he reaches the base of his cock and fingers curling to where his balls would be. For a few seconds, Bambam is completely mesmerized as he watches Jaebum lose control under the ministrations of his hand, so much that Jaebum’s hands have stopped their caresses on Bambam’s slim body. It makes Bambam marvel at how lewd, how sinfully handsome Jaebum looks when he has his eyes squeezed shut, body quivering with unconstrained pleasure. It makes Bambam want to see if he can push for more, if he can give his hyung the same kind of stars that Jaebum so selflessly gives him in the night.

 

Without thinking, Bambam grabs onto the buckle of Jaebum’s belt and starts to remove it, tossing it down to the floor with a clank on the tiles. He unzips his pants and briefly catches the shocked expression on Jaebum’s face as he drops to his knees.

 

“Bambam!” Jaebum sucks in a sharp breath.

 

Bambam swallows thickly. Oh. He’s doing this.

 

He looks up at Jaebum, who, although speechless, looks like he’s bursting with want. His breathing is shallow, chest heaving up and down. Bambam understands. His heart is beating erratically too.

 

“I don’t know how,” Bambam starts. “But teach me, okay?”

 

“You don’t have to.”

 

“I want to,” Bambam says, and is surprised with how much he means it. “For you, I want to.”

 

With shaking hands, he pulls down Jaebum’s underwear along with his pants, blushing at the sight of his thick cock so close to his face. Well. He’s about to put his mouth on it, so there’s no reason to be shy about that now.

 

Bambam circles his fingers around the base, blinking at the novelty of its weight in his hand and imagining how heavy it will be on his tongue. He gives it an experimental pump and notices how tense Jaebum’s thighs are from keeping still. He tries not to look up at Jaebum as he takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for the task at hand. He’s supposed to breath through his nose, right? And keep his jaw slack? That’s what he’s heard from others, anyway.

 

Bambam brings his cock to his lips and barely gets one lick in when –

 

“ _Jesus Christ_ –!” Jaebum curses, hand covering the lower half of his red face as his wild, dilated eyes bulge at Bambam beneath him.

 

Surprised, Bambam lifts his head up, wondering what’s wrong. And seeing Jaebum above him – he lets out a shy, nervous giggle. He’s not the only one affected by this moment.

 

And exactly what right does Bambam have, looking this cute when he’s about to suck Jaebum off? It makes Jaebum want to kiss him instead, forget this. (No, actually, please continue.)

 

Bambam goes back to placing Jaebum in his mouth, swallowing over the tip and sucking lightly. As he gets used to the feeling of Jaebum, twitching and heavy on his tongue, he decides to sink deeper on his cock, allowing his saliva to help the slide on his lips. At first, he tasted nothing, and thought that it wasn’t much different from sucking on any other part of Jaebum’s skin. But then, as he pulls back and forth with his tight suction, a warm and slightly salty taste starts to coat around the back of his mouth. He realizes with a start that it must be Jaebum’s precum leaking inside.

 

The thought of him doing a good job of pleasuring Jaebum sends a throb through his own hard cock, and he can’t help but moan around him with a tighter grip of his hand. Bambam exhales through his nose, not even realizing that his eyes have closed naturally to heighten the feeling, the taste, and the scent of Jaebum. He pumps the rest of Jaebum’s cock with his hand, pumping it towards his mouth whenever he bobs his head down, messily spreading the slick throughout the entire length. Bambam distantly hears Jaebum groaning above him and cursing in rapid succession, but he’s so focused on giving him hard sucks with hollowed cheeks that he doesn’t even stop to take pride in his hyung’s unraveling.

 

A hand grips onto the hair at the back of his head, so Bambam slowly opens his eyes and pulls off with a trail of their mixture connecting from his red lips to the tip of Jaebum’s aching cock.

 

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Jaebum grits through his teeth, sweating from the thick arousal clouding his mind and weakening his knees. He can barely keep his hips from thrusting into Bambam’s hot mouth – barely hold back from coming hard and fast at Bambam’s hot, wet mouth engulfing him while looking like straight sin.

 

Bambam blinks up at him innocently. Upon seeing nothing wrong, he parts his lips and licks one long stripe along the underside of Jaebum’s cock, mimicking what he remembers Jaebum doing to him in the past.

 

Jaebum chokes on his breath at the sight, throbbing and leaking more of his precum down his shaft.

 

Bambam flattens his tongue as he dips into the slit, familiarizing more with the taste of the dripping precum. He falls into a comfortable rhythm of sucking and slurping, listening to the wet, lewd sounds with pleasure deep in his loins. Jaebum starts rocking with him slowly, which throws him off at first, but he gradually accepts it and forces his jaw open wider. Bambam reaches down with his free hand to unzip his jeans and palm his own cock. When he finally curls his hand around himself, his hips involuntarily buck up with the intensity of his pleasure, white hot and coursing through his veins. His moans, muffled, cause vibrations on Jaebum’s cock.

 

With his mouth falling open, Jaebum burns the vulgar, filthy image of his pretty, pretty Bambam on his knees, eagerly sucking him off and helplessly rutting into his hand.

 

Without warning, his orgasm hits him hard, shooting the first burst of his come into Bambam’s unsuspecting mouth before he hastily pulls out with a curse. Bambam yelps and starts coughing, surprised by the thick come that slid down his throat. Even so, he fists Jaebum through his orgasm, watching his hyung pulse and shudder as he spills over in ropes. He looks so good like this – Bambam is glad that he can be the one to do this for him.

 

Bambam stays on his knees until Jaebum comes down from his high, breathing in deeply to make up for the quick and sharp breaths that he had been taking while tense with Bambam’s heat. Bothered by the mess on his face, Bambam wipes the come away and licks it clean, smiling widely when Jaebum lets out a weak groan with an arm over his eyes and a hand on the wall for balance.

 

“Hyung,” he calls, voice a little hoarse. “Was I good?” He leans his cheek on Jaebum’s bare thigh, laughing after Jaebum glares at his cheekiness.

 

His angry face doesn’t last any more than a second. Jaebum pulls Bambam up to his feet and then bends down to carry him in his arms, perfectly aware that he hasn’t had his release yet. He kisses Bambam slow and deep, not minding at all for his own taste. They enter the bedroom, where Jaebum does turn on the lights.

 

“Do you care for your shirt?” Jaebum asks him.

 

Bambam tilts his head in confusion, but shakes his head.

 

“Good. It’s ruined anyway,” Jaebum smiles and brings his attention to the white stains on his black tank, already sticky and drying. Once Jaebum lays him down on the bed, he lets him lift the shirt off of him, as well as pull off the jeans. Bambam is reminded of his hardness after being bare on the bed save for his fishnet tights and black, soaked briefs.

 

He sighs. At this rate, Jaebum could probably put his hand over his dick and he’d come right there and then.

 

Jaebum sighs too, more for the beautiful sight of Bambam’s long legs encased in black and how it’s such a pity that he won’t be able to have them wrapped around his waist as he fucks him through a rip in the tights.

 

Still, it won’t be such a waste.

 

“Baby, lie on your stomach.”

 

Bambam’s eyebrows shoot up, surprised by the request. He really thought Jaebum would quickly get him off with his hand, maybe his mouth too if he was all about reciprocation. He follows the order anyway, excited for what’s in store. Jaebum hums at the action and grabs at his hips, pulling them upwards until Bambam is, for the second time that night, on his knees. His face is resting on the pillow, and Bambam silently wonders if Jaebum will try to get hard again so soon.

 

Jaebum grabs both of his cheeks and kneads them, moving the sides of his briefs apart so that more of his skin is revealed beneath the net. Bambam whimpers – he’s going at it pretty hard, though not enough to hurt. Jaebum lets go of one hand to sneak around the front, fisting a bunch of the tights to create pressure on Bambam’s cock while simultaneously pulling it taut against his ass. The fishnet digs into his cheeks, creating a pattern on his protruding flesh.

 

Bambam cries out as Jaebum bites and sucks on his soft cheeks, leaving red marks in the centers of the pattern. “Hyung!”

 

Jaebum continues to mark him up while tightening and releasing the constraint on Bambam’s crotch, ignoring his cries for release until he feels satisfied with the artwork he’s created. In one swift motion, he pulls down the briefs and tights, hand finally circling around Bambam and thumbing his slit. Bambam tries to thrust into his hand – but he won’t allow it. He uses his leg to push Bambam’s knee apart, spreading him open with his ass up. Jaebum strokes him slow and hard. And then, he dives right in between his cheeks, placing his hot mouth over his entrance.

 

Bambam gasps, scrambling to get up. But Jaebum pushes his head back down on the pillow and spreads him even _wider_ , all ready for him to plunge his tongue into his rim. His legs shake and his wanton moans fill the room as his hyung licks around him, wetting him real good before sucking and piercing his tongue into him in time with his wrist.

 

Bambam comes soon with a cry, his core tightening up as he splatters all over Jaebum’s hand. It’s a long, burning orgasm that Jaebum milks out of him until he’s dry, using his own come as a lubricant. Bambam whimpers with sensitivity after, and his legs would’ve given out if it weren’t for Jaebum’s quick reflexes. He turns over gasping for air while Jaebum grabs the tissues by his nightstand and roughly cleans him up. Bambam lifts his torso up to rip the tights off his legs. They lie next to each other after that, soaking in the bliss of a good night.

 

Jaebum strokes his cheek with fond eyes and an equally fond smile, which only widens when Bambam does the same back.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /has back up against a wall. /sweATS. h-hello. I'm sorry. Again. OTL For taking a century and a half. I'll make it up to y'all soon SOBS. If you're still reading this, I'd like to say thank you so so much for sticking to this fic ;n; I'm such a repetitive potato but I always mean it when I say that I appreciate and am grateful for all the love and support! Also.........my ass said that there would be like, 3 parts left, bUT oF cOURSE NOTHING I SAY goes to plan because I always write more for a scene than I should /flips the table. 
> 
> Finally, thank you to everyone who added me on twitter (@tremmy_chii) and was willing to become my friend! <3 I'm not such a lonely birb anymore, lmao.
> 
> See you all soon!
> 
> Edit (10/15/2017): ;n; if you've been checking for updates, I'm so sorry! I'm in school right now and I'm being swarmed with work and it's getting really difficult to keep up with the material all while updating the fic. I know I'm taking forever but I really can't help it, I'm OTL horrible and dumb, and my upcoming exams are my priorities. I'll do my best, though. Thank you! /cries.


	9. be with me, be right here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit (2/4/18): :(( I'm sorry, friends, it's been a while again. I've been very unwell the past month; first was food poisoning then two sets of the flu, and now I'm trying to recover from pink eye + a nasty cough. OTL uhhh wow, so much for 2018 being a better year, right? LOL I'll get back on this as soon as I can :(

 

 

 

Bambam continues to breathe nice and slow, half of his face still huddled in the blankets as his legs naturally curl up against the bed to linger upon the heat of where Jaebum’s body once was. He slowly blinks at Jaebum at the edge of the bed, who is quickly turning off the alarm with a sigh that visibly makes his shoulders fall. It briefly crosses Bambam’s mind that it’s only Sunday, and yet Jaebum still has to get up for another day at the office. He would whine that his hyung is being a workaholic, but he’s not awake enough to do anything but try to fall back asleep. Light barely sifts through the room, though everything is so quiet Bambam can still map out the whereabouts of Jaebum with his eyes closed. He feels a kiss being pressed to his temple and he opens his eyes just in time to see the small smile backing away from his peripheral.

 

The door closes gently.

 

Bambam pulls Jaebum’s pillow in his arms, now free to do as he pleases with it. For a few minutes, he curls tightly into his self-made cocoon of blankets and pillows and breathes in his hyung’s scent. Normally, it would be relaxing and comforting enough to lull him back to sleep in no time.

 

But this morning, the longer he stays in bed, the more he feels awake.

 

Before he can register it, he’s already on his feet, shivering as the blast of air conditioning robs him of his warmth. If he hurries, he can still make it to the shower.

 

So with his arms around himself and his toes curled in, Bambam quickly and quietly grabs a spare change of clothes and sneaks into the dressing room to place them on the shelf. He decides to brush up after the hot shower – right now, all he wants to do is slide past the lotus lights and press his cheek on Jaebum’s shoulder while the water hits their skin, steam rising to the ceiling. Jaebum looks surprised to hear the door open behind him and even more so upon feeling Bambam right behind him, hands circling around his waist.

 

“Bam?”

 

“Morning,” Bambam murmurs with a smile. His bedhead is now matted to his forehead, and the sight of his sloppy mop of hair draws an affectionate smile from Jaebum as his looks over his shoulder. Jaebum likes seeing him like this – as just a regular cute boy, an even cuter boyfriend. Bambam spends a lot of time dressing himself up, but Jaebum thinks he’s just as pretty without all the work. Jaebum likes to see him bare, all honest and soft with the glow of a good night’s sleep. Ah. Jaebum faces the wall. Better not linger on that thought. He’ll end up getting carried away and having to look into Jinyoung’s stony eyes when he arrives late at work (after doing who knows what with you know who).

 

But it looks like it’s not really himself that he needs to worry about; it’s Bambam, who has sneakily snuck his hand down south and wrapped his fingers around the girth of his soft cock, recently cleaned and slippery with the constant rain of the shower. It’s Bambam, who strokes him lazily and sends his heart racing with just a kiss to his neck.

 

It’s Jaebum, who turns Bambam around and pins him to the wall, growling because Bambam is giggling even while his legs are being spread. It’s because Jaebum is too easily roused, too weak for any kind of constraint when it comes to Bambam. It would be embarrassing, the fact that he’s so wrapped around this boy’s finger, if only Jaebum didn’t love the feeling of sinking into the quicksand. It’s tight and suffocating, and even though it feels like he’s been falling for years, he still can’t see the bottom of the pit. The dark abyss is, quite honestly, deeply frightening.

 

(Bambam kisses him passionately, and the wet glide of his tongue is kin to molten lava. When they break, it’s done with a small wispy sigh from Bambam’s lips. “Hyung,” he says, and Jaebum chases after him once more. Something twists painfully within Jaebum. After some thought, he realizes that it’s the wish for Bambam to call only for him. For the word “hyung” to only refer to him – as irrational as it is.)

 

But – if Bambam’s heart is down there – then Jaebum wants it. Would willingly dive into the darkness. Would do anything for it.

 

Jaebum is ten minutes late in his schedule by the time they finish in the shower. He won’t have time to make breakfast –

 

Unless Bambam works on it while he changes and gets ready for a long day. In the end, Jaebum doesn’t have time to eat either, so Bambam wraps a hot sandwich in aluminum foil for him to take on the go instead. Jaebum kisses his cheek and quietly raises the temperature on the thermostat after noticing Bambam’s slightly shivering figure. It’s a small gesture, but it doesn’t go unnoticed; Bambam flashes him a small, grateful smile.

 

“Before I go,” Jaebum turns around suddenly. Bambam halts his hand from closing the door after him. “I’m leaving for a business trip to Japan later this week; it’ll only be for three days, but take care.”

 

“Okay,” Bambam nods with a yawn, stifling it with his hand. After a pause, a realization dawns on him. While his eyes widen, his hand conveniently covers the shock and ensuing disappointment emerging on his face. He quickly turns it into a smile and ushers Jaebum to go on his way. “Bye, hyung. Have a good day!”

 

“Wait – what’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing,” Bambam shakes his head. “Go, you’re running late.”

 

“You’re upset,” Jaebum says instead and stubbornly stands by the door, deflecting all of Bambam’s nudges for him to hurry.

 

“I’m not – upset,” Bambam sighs. Though his tone might have proven Jaebum’s point. He’s avoiding eye contact, which gives Jaebum even more of a reason to stay behind and listen. “It’s not a big deal. Don’t worry.” He can practically feel Jaebum burning a hole into him with his eyes, so he gives in. After all, it’s…not a big deal. “My show is on Friday,” Bambam reveals weakly.

 

“Friday?” Jaebum repeats after him – then, “Oh – _no_. Oh no, I’m so sorry –!”

 

“Don’t be; it can’t be helped.” Bambam takes a look at his crestfallen face and suddenly feels horrible about ruining his morning like this. Neither of them should be so sad; it’s not like it’s his first show. Jaebum can go to many others in the future, when Bambam can improve even more and make him prouder. “Aww,” Bambam attempts to lighten up the situation by poking Jaebum’s frown up into a forced smile. “Don’t be sad, hyung! I won’t be if you won’t. And besides, I heard the entire thing is going to be up for live streaming. There’ll be videos up, and if you want, I can comment on the whole thing when you come back so you won’t miss a thing.”

 

Jaebum stays silent for a moment, eyebrows etched together as he shifts on his feet. “But…I feel like I should be there.” _I know how much it means to you_.

 

“Next time,” Bambam holds out his pinky for a promise.

 

Jaebum switches the sandwich to his other hand. “Next time. For sure.” He curls his pinky around Bambam’s and finally relaxes when Bambam beams up at him, leaning in for a quick peck on the cheek. Jaebum can’t help the smile that automatically appears on his face, watching fondly as Bambam quickly gets embarrassed once a neighbor at the other end of their floor catches them lingering at the door the way lovesick lovers do.

 

When Jaebum is finally out of sight, Bambam shuts the door with a click and leans back on it. He sighs, and this time, there’s no one to stop him from feeling the heavy sink in his heart and the decline of his shoulders. He brings his hands to his face and takes in deep breaths – anything to push away the suffocating disappointment from pressing on his lungs. Eventually, his back slides down on the door, and he’s sitting with his knees to his chest before he can catch himself.

 

 _It’s not a big deal_ , he repeats over and over.

 

If he’s disappointed, it’s his entire fault. Jaebum didn’t do anything wrong. Bambam was the one to subconsciously believe that his hyung would be there, no matter what. It’s not – it’s not like he _promised_ or anything. It’s only been Bambam who has been bringing it up now and then. It’s his fault he didn’t ask for sure if Jaebum could come, or give him the ticket early. Besides, even if he did give Jaebum the ticket to his show early, Bambam would still want him to go to Japan because it’s much more important to uphold the company.

 

Bambam understands; career is important, and he probably would’ve done the same if he held the same kind of responsibility Jaebum does.

 

He picks himself up from the floor with that thought and crosses the living room to look for his wallet. After fishing out the bent piece of paper with the intent of throwing it out, he pauses – couldn’t he give it to someone else?

 

-

 

“What’s this?” Jackson takes the strip of cardstock being handed to him.

 

“It’s a ticket to my fashion show on Friday. I happened to have an extra one on hand so I figured you could have it.” Bambam takes a big gulp of his thick milkshake, regretting it after it gives him a brain freeze bad enough to have him wincing and squirming. While Bambam squeaks in the background, Jackson studies the ticket with amusement.

 

“They _sell_ these?” Jackson teases. “I would’ve thought it was free admission.”

 

“The department has to receive funding _somehow_.” As someone who learns from their mistakes, Bambam decides to shove fries into his mouth instead. He lets Jackson do whatever he wants for a bit, too busy wolfing down his meal at the recently opened Shake Shack.

 

“Cute.”

 

“What?” Bambam asks disinterestedly.

 

“ _Cute_ ,” Jackson smirks and waves the backside of the ticket in front of Bambam, whose eyes pop out upon seeing the numerous drawn hearts. Bambam coughs, nearly choking from swallowing too hard. His face turns red from all the coughing – but both of them know that’s not the real cause.

 

 _God_. Bambam completely forgot about the hearts on the back. He’s drawn them on quite a while ago when he was bored in class. It was the ticket he meant to give to Jaebum, although now with the news of Jaebum’s business trip overseas, it wouldn’t be useful for him to have it anymore. Bambam thought he could just give it to someone else – but if he remembered the embarrassing _things_ he did to it, he would’ve just kept it to himself.

 

“It’s…” Jackson begins with gleaming eyes. He’s an actor, that’s for sure. “It’s kind of like…when your child gives you a drawing from kindergarten for the first time.”

 

Bambam shoves him to the side, to which Jackson laughs at gleefully before pocketing the ticket. They spend the rest of lunch bothering each other like kids, stealing fries and taking jabs at each other’s work. Once Bambam gets sick of being teased for his little hearts, he turns the tables on Jackson by referencing his dark moments on television. As foreigners, they mess up the pronunciation sometimes, but it’s all in good fun as Bambam reenacts the most recent episode of Running Man where Jackson sent the team driving in the opposite direction of their destination after misreading the mission cards. Now that he’s got more time on his hands, Bambam has been using it to catch up on Jackson’s shows, first out of curiosity, then out of genuine interest. It was both a surprise and a relief to realize that Jackson is mostly the same on and off screen. He’s really nothing else but endearing – and incredibly funny too.

 

“Alright,” Jackson gives him a brief hug, pulling up his facemask. “I’ll see you soon!”

 

Bambam waves him off with a laugh as he watches Jackson’s manager all but drag him into the car by the collar of his shirt like a misbehaved puppy, probably only a second away from giving him another scolding about sneaking off without supervision. He makes eye contact with his manager, so he sends over a sheepish smile and a shrug of his shoulders. Bambam gets a barely contained smile and a shake of a head in return. By the looks of it, Jackson’s probably not _that_ much in trouble.

 

After spending a few more hours roaming the streets and making spontaneous purchases, Bambam heads home by catching the bus. Knowing that Yugyeom’s out at the dance studio again, Bambam makes a mad dash for his jerk of a best friend’s room, heart thumping at the thought of finally retrieving his precious dresses once and for all. He completely ignores the big “KEEP OUT, BAM” sign taped on the door as he barges in. But really – if Yugyeom wanted to keep him out, he should’ve at least locked his room.

 

Upon pulling apart the closet, the grin on Bambam’s face wavers into a watery expression. He blinks the beginning of tears away, huffing at himself in the next second. He’s been ridiculous the past few weeks – he can’t remember ever being so emotional and soft as often as he is now.

 

All of his dresses are there, hung up beautifully with ample spacing and already dry cleaned. There are decorations – or sad excuses of it, since Yugyeom has never been too good at interior design – lining the walls of the closet. It’s just a mess of bright tissue paper and cheap, glittery party streamers that Bambam will bet ten thousand won they’re leftovers from his birthday party. Even so, the thought of Yugyeom putting in the effort to sneak around with all these dresses in his car and to bother to write down so many encouraging messages on sticky notes has him…deeply touched, to say the least.

 

Bambam scoffs and rolls his eyes at the biggest note in front, but can’t help the wide grin as he plucks it off the hanger.

 

“I knew you’d sneak in!! Shame on you!!!” It says.

 

But the rest are cute little sayings like “fighting!” and “I believe in you, best friend.”

 

“ _Seriously_ ,” Bambam whines, voice naturally dripping in honey. “What’s up with this big idiot?”

 

Bambam collects all of the notes and stacks them carefully on top of each other for sentimental keepings in the future (and if he’s lucky, for blackmail as well). He moves all of his dresses into his room and the next few hours simply fly by as he makes all the final checks twice and rearranges the accessories another three times. Some time midst all of that, he remembers to text Lisa when to pick her up. And at the thought of her, Bambam feels the surge of inspiration hitting him again, compelling him to pull up the red gown and place it on his dress form. Just for the sake of doing it, he carefully lays out the train flat and splayed on the ground, stepping back and collapsing on his bed to admire it from the corner of his room. He’s exceptionally proud of this – and strangely, instead of feeling the intense nerves that always comes when the day of the show is looming, he feels excited. He really wants everyone’s eyes to be captivated the moment Lisa walks down the runway for the finale. He wants them to be just as enchanted as he was when watching her grace the audience with her presence, as lovely as the fae.

 

Seeing all the red in his room reminds him of the last thing on his to-do list. Bambam heads to the bathroom, locking it behind him with a click.

 

-

 

Already waiting behind the wheel, Yugyeom looks up upon hearing the faint sound of the front door closing. Bambam has his arms full of garment bags, his eyes barely peeking out atop of them. Yugyeom releases his seatbelt, about to step out of the car to help him out. But Bambam quickly dismisses him with a shake of his hand instead, so Yugyeom watches as Bambam barely makes it to the trunk. After a bit of shuffling around, the trunk closes with a slam that has Yugyeom narrowing his eyes at him through the window.

 

“This car is barely breathing, you know,” Yugyeom turns on the engine to prove his point. It groans for a good two seconds before quieting down – though Bambam just laughs, because it’s been that way since they were freshmen.

 

“Sorry,” Bambam smiles. The twinkle in his eyes clearly says that he isn’t.

 

Yugyeom snorts, and they make eye contact before Yugyeom reverses out of the driveway at the same time that Bambam hits the radio on, instantly livening up the neighborhood with their loud car.

 

“Did you finally go bald?” Yugyeom glances at the beanie on Bambam’s head, a rare sight even on the worst of school days.

 

“It’s a surprise,” Bambam rolls his eyes and pulls the knit down and over his ears, not a strand of hair in sight. “I have a _theme_ , okay?”

 

“Right.” Yugyeom nods in all seriousness. “I won’t tell anyone you’re balding.”

 

Bambam shoves his shoulder and scowls at the annoying high-pitched laughter piercing his ears. “Shut up before I dye your hair piss yellow in your sleep.”

 

Aside from that, everything else is smooth sailing as they arrive at Lisa and Jennie’s to pick up the star of the show. Bambam rolls down his window to wave at Lisa as she skips over in her sweats and messy topknot, the ashy blonde tuft of hair bobbing with her every step. Yugyeom has to mentally remind himself that this is the same gorgeous model he saw in his living room just a few weeks prior. He…really doesn’t understand girls.

 

They both get dropped off backstage while Yugyeom goes off to attend one of his classes. He should be able to make it on time for the show by the end of it, but Bambam and his models need to be there early for rehearsal.

 

“ _Wow_ ,” Lisa gasps as they pass by the runway, where another group is already practicing for their timeslot. The music is kept low for now, but both of them know it will be deafening later on when it all starts. It’ll be a struggle to listen for directions, so rehearsal is absolutely vital. The runway, Bambam notes, is even grander than it was last year. It’s made completely out of glass and lined with sparkling white lights underneath. It’ll look like the models are walking on diamonds, once the show is brought to life. He supposes it’s only natural that the department went all out this year, considering how many sponsors there are. It’s been attracting a lot of attention in the industry, and many participants are looking to get noticed by the powerhouses of fashion – a prize more valuable than winning the competition itself. The front rows will be filled with potential employers.

 

A mirrored flooring, though…

 

Bambam eyes the stage warily. He can’t tell if there’s any form of grip on it from afar. Considering how long his dresses are and the heels his girls will have to wear, it could be dangerous.

 

“You should head inside,” Bambam nudges Lisa’s back gently towards a dressing room. “I think everyone’s here by now – you can say hi while I sign in.”

 

“Okay, see you!”

 

It takes about five minutes for him to find the director, but another twenty to actually confirm his attendance and time slot. Everyone else is whirring past him to and fro, each with anxious looks on their faces and always carrying an outfit on one arm, a clipboard in the other. In just a bit, that will be him too. Bambam hears Jimin’s voice on the microphone as he makes his way back to the dressing room. She must be wrapping up her rehearsal. They haven’t been able to see each other’s final projects due to time constraint, but Bambam sincerely hopes that she does well. Her craftsmanship is remarkable – he’s been with her long enough to know the quality of her stitching. She’ll be a tough competitor, that’s for sure.

 

“Hey!” Bambam pokes his head into the room with a smile. As he makes a quick scan of the room while everyone choruses the same greeting back, he inwardly sighs in relief to see everyone there. “We’re up for rehearsal in forty-five – let’s take role and assign the line-up.”

 

The length of the runway is long, as gauged by what he could see from backstage. That should give each model about a minute and a half on the runway, which means that they only have half the time to change in and out of their gowns. Compared to the rest of his peers, Bambam seems to be at least five models short. It’s risky, but unfortunately he really couldn’t spare the money to hire more, even if some of his friends offered to help him out for free. No matter what they say, Bambam knows that each girl needs to be paid; it just feels wrong otherwise.

 

After checking all of his models off and numbering them for the show, Bambam sends half the group to get their makeup done and the other half to do their hair. Meanwhile, Bambam rushes to find all of their shoes and hand them their accessories. At times like this, when he’s running around single-handedly operating the entire show, he wishes he had a team to back him up the way Nana did for Hong Kong Fashion Week. When the reminder comes for ten minutes left until rehearsal, Bambam’s mind almost spins with the panic of _still having so much to do_.

 

“Is this the playlist you wanted?”

 

Bambam twirls on his heels, glancing at the screen – “Yes. Yes, thank you.”

 

“Bambam! These shoes don’t fit – what should I do?”

 

“Uhm –!” Bambam glances around. “I might’ve mixed them up with Sowon’s. Please go ask her for me?”

 

“The director wants to see you for a moment.”

 

“You need to go oversee the lighting.”

 

“Jihyo has trouble changing in time – should we rearrange the line up?”

 

“Bambam – your phone has been ringing for a while!”

 

Bambam pants as he runs around fulfilling all the requests. Ultimately, his phone is ignored and there isn’t enough time to change the line up before they have to get on stage. Each contestant only has an hour to go through their show and finalize their set up with the stage technicians – which is nowhere near enough time to perfect a show. Bambam knows from experience that they need _at least_ a day beforehand to finish all of this. Of course the university would do this. Extravagant on the outside, a mess on the inside.

 

“Alright, I’m going to give you a cue for rehearsal, but you’ll have to memorize the timing for the actual show, okay?” Bambam reminds the lined-up models backstage. They all nod, and Lisa gives him a thumbs up from the back. The gesture relieves him for a second, but then he remembers the runway itself. “Oh and – please, be careful.” Bambam turns the microphone away so that the judges can’t hear him. “The runway is built like shit. Watch your step and don’t go too fast. It’s slippery, and I don’t want any of you to get hurt.”

 

With that, Bambam rushes down the stairs to meet with the technicians, who bombard him with questions that he never even considered until now. The music begins, and Bambam stands near the end of the runway where the models can see him from backstage. He raises his hand high, signaling the first girl to begin her walk.

 

The first dress is white satin, simple yet elegant with its sweetheart bodice and dainty chiffon ruffles lining the hips and the hem of the mermaid tail. It looks gorgeous with the light on the runway, and Bambam is simply glad the dress doesn’t look washed out instead. It’s an interesting choice for an opening dress. Usually something more colorful would appear first in order to capture the attention of the audience. But – Bambam picks at his fingers unconsciously – he wants his line to have a story of some sort. It’s going to be subtle, but the gradient in color from white to red is supposed to depict a blossom.

 

Bambam raises his hand again, beginning the flow of models that will share the long runway.

 

“Slow down,” Bambam points to one of the girls. “You need to match her pace and make sure it’s equidistant.”

 

Unbeknownst to Bambam, he’s gained quite a few spectators backstage. Some are surprised to find out that he has quite the critical eye – many of his girls have been told to relax and take longer strides even though they seem to be more than passable. But it’s undeniable that after his critique, they perform better with every run. Furthermore, Lisa causes a stir every time she comes out – and the show hasn’t even begun.

 

They seem – too polished – too good. Bambam has experience, and it’s starting to set him apart from the rest.

 

“Should I wear some heels, too?” Bambam jokes as he hooks his arm with Lisa’s, practicing the finale when the designer will finally be revealed to take a bow. With her full outfit on, she has more than just a few centimeters over him.

 

“If you carry me, no one will be able to tell that you’re a shorty.”

 

Bambam almost considers it until he, regrettably, remembers how he can’t even carry a ten-gallon bottle of water without whining for Yugyeom to do it for him. Maybe he should try to gain weight again, pull on a little muscle…nah, that’s too much work. He straightens his back.

 

“I’m not _that_ short. I’m taller than you _without_ shoes.”

 

With only fifteen minutes left, Bambam decides to squeeze in just one more cycle before he has to hand over the reins to another designer. Every second is important, and he’s going to milk it out for as long as he can. Besides, if he’s charming enough, he can probably get away scot-free with going over the time limit by a minute or two. Luckily for him, next up is an acquaintance from a project last year. Everything should be fine. None of his dresses need last minute alterations, all the girls have gotten a hang of the timing, and the visuals – they’re exactly how he’s envisioned them.

 

Okay.

 

Bambam takes a deep breath.

 

He looks up at the stage, watching all of his girls strut towards the edge of the runway, pause, and circle back with impeccable timing. The make up looks good on them, all earthy tones and matching gray lenses. He had specifically asked for extra highlighting, so that their cheeks would glow like moon dust upon turning away from the fluorescent lights. He hadn’t expected for it to work so well – so he’s definitely not complaining.

 

For the first time, Bambam notices how many people are watching his rehearsal. Out of surprise, he sinks further back into the darkness and nearly bumps into the lighting director. After apologizing profusely, he steps aside, far enough to nearly be in the seating area. The music continues playing, and Bambam can see their faces when the sidelights skim past them. He pulls on the hem of his shirt nervously.

 

He can’t read any of their expressions.

 

The anticipation and the excitement of last night die quickly as twists form in his stomach instead. Why did they look so…blank? There must be something he’s not seeing. He must’ve missed something, must’ve gotten too relaxed and made a terrible mistake. If there is, he has to figure it out, and soon, because there won’t be any more opportunities to fix the line up after this. But what if the problem is in his designs itself? Bambam stops focusing on the models, wide eyes snapping to the dresses they adorn instead. Is it – too much? Too ambitious? There are many cases in which the designer loses sight of the bigger picture and becomes blind to their work, too infatuated with the individual pieces to possess cohesiveness within a collection.

 

But he’s worked so _hard_ , and drafted the same idea for _weeks_ before spending thrice as long on the production itself. He can’t do anything about it now. And who would help out their competition anyway?

 

An abrupt scream pierces above the music, and Bambam’s heart plummets at the sight of Moonbyul falling down the side of the runway right before his eyes.

 

He’s already sprinting before he knows it – but even then, it’s too late.

 

The train of her dusty pink gown catches on to a pointed jut of the stage and the long ripping sound that follows elicits a collective gasp amongst the witnesses.

 

Bambam is too far to break her fall in time, so it’s a miracle that someone else does.

 

“Cut!” He hears a male voice roaring. “Cut the music!”

 

It’s complete darkness for a second as they transition from stage to normal lighting. Bambam manages to kneel beside her regardless.

 

“ _Oh my god_ – are you okay?!”

 

“Yeah – yeah…I –!” Moonbyul replies breathily, reeling in from shock. There’s a crowd rapidly forming around her. Bambam and one of the staff have to shout over the noise to give her space – and if he’s heard correctly, someone’s running to get a medic. Bambam can feel her hands shaking, so he grabs one of them between his hands and keeps it steady.

 

“Are you hurt?”

 

Moonbyul stays silent for a moment, then moves her legs in response. The wince that follows is impossible to miss. Bambam follows her train of sight and catches onto the red swell of her ankle. She must’ve twisted it up there and fell down. It’s not so hard to imagine; Bambam had been wary of the runway the moment he saw it, but to think that the worst would actually happen…

 

“I’m so sorry…” Moonbyul says tearfully.

 

Bambam faces her again. “For what?” He asks gently.

 

“Your dress!” She points to the awful tear straight down the middle of the skirt, the pink chiffon in shreds. The peonies that he’s painstakingly sown on have been torn too. Bambam’s heart clenches at the sight, but he forces himself to look away.

 

“That’s nothing. Your foot though – _I’m_ sorry. I knew it was dangerous, but I let you and the rest go on it anyway.”

 

“That’s not your fault, Bam. Everyone has to go on it.”

 

“You’re not a professional.” Bambam squeezes her hand and sucks in a sharp breath. He feels responsible. Moonbyul was one of the girls he never officially hired from a casting, but rather asked a favor from. She was an upperclassman he met through Changkyun and Minhyuk and thought would be the perfect model for one of his most beloved pieces. She was second to last in the line up. “I’m sorry,” he can’t help but apologize again. “It must hurt a lot.”

 

“I’m okay. Well, I will be soon.”

 

He helps send her off when the medic arrives with a wheelchair to transfer her elsewhere for treatment. Bambam and the rest of his team wish her well as she leaves the building, standing in heavy silence as everyone takes in what just happened.

 

It’s not until the higher-ups enter the scene asking what’s the hold-up on the rehearsals that it hits Bambam just how deep in shit he’s in. Moonbyul was in one of his vital showstoppers, which is now completely ruined. He’s down another model, which he couldn’t afford to lose in the first place. Not to mention, his rehearsal time is over. There’s no way to practice the inevitable change in their line up.

 

Although his mind is in haywire, Bambam still gathers and leads his models back into the waiting room, where they will remain until the start of the show in just – god, two hours. It’s a long time and yet it’s not. Bambam knows how fast time flies when everyone is rushing to do their job. A lot of people’s careers rely on just one show. A single bad one will ruin reputation. And this one – this one, with all of the press, sponsors, and special invitations to creative directors around the world – is _not_ the one to fuck up.

 

 _Fuck_. Bambam places his hand over his mouth, eyebrows stitched together with anxiety. _Fuck, there’s so much to do_. The girls have to change in and out of their dresses even faster. Three of them need to walk an extra round to fill in for Moonbyul’s absence. They need time to make that happen – but Bambam has already stretched out the duration between each of his models long enough. Any longer and the transition will be noticeable and awkward.

 

When he looks up, he realizes with a start that the room has been quiet. The girls have silently found their own spaces to huddle up in, and there’s a thick tension in the air that makes it hard to breathe. The morale has dropped significantly, which is possibly one of the worst things to happen before a show. Fashion shows are fast, and it’s basically a necessity to keep the atmosphere high and spirited to keep the models moving.

 

Lisa knows this. She’s looking at him expectedly, and that’s how Bambam _knows_ he needs to do something _now_ , he needs to crank out the best speech he’s ever given in his entire life.

 

Bambam knows this.

 

And yet, the first thing he does is walk out the door.

 

Bambam brushes past the blur of people and locks himself in what’s apparently the electrical room. He leans against the door, reaching into his pocket for his phone. He dials a number without thinking, though his heart is already a step ahead of him by yearning for his Jaebum hyung’s warm voice.

 

It rings once, twice – voice message.

 

Bambam holds his breath and tries again.

 

Once, twice – voice message.

 

Is Jaebum in a meeting right now? Bambam doesn’t know. He has so much to do and yet he’s sitting here, doing nothing but stupidly calling Jaebum over and over again and probably bothering him from work – which makes Bambam turn off the screen mid-dial. He’s horrible. Jaebum is going to see all the missed calls later and get so worried, and what will Bambam even tell him then? _I just really wanted to talk to you?_ He’s been long aware of how easily Jaebum will give into him, how he won’t even think about blaming Bambam for distracting him from his responsibilities at the company. And that makes Bambam feel worse about taking up his time with such…insignificant things.

 

Bambam needs to get it together and go back. The show isn’t going to run itself. If he stays here, he might as well have forfeited the competition and all his work for the past half-year would have been for naught. He needs to get up. He needs to _try_. But his body feels so heavy and the shame of having walked out on everyone when they needed his direction feels too fresh and raw for him to face them yet.

 

He contemplates texting Jaebum for a moment but ultimately decides against it upon coming across their most recent messages. They’re from moments just before Jaebum boarded his flight, and it’s basically ten minutes straight of Bambam reassuring him that it’s alright that he’s not there, that Bambam will be fine on his own. He’s done this before.

 

It takes a long second for Bambam to reel away from his thoughts and to realize that his phone is ringing. His heart leaps to his throat, and he swipes across the screen without even looking at the caller. His voice, shaky and terribly hopeful, echoes in the room.

 

“Hyung?”

 

“ _Hey! Bambam!_ ”

 

His shoulders sag and his eyes flutter to a close. It’s not…it’s not _his hyung_. “Hey, Jackson hyung.”

 

“ _You’re backstage somewhere, right?_ ”

 

“…Yes, of course, hyung. I’m _in_ the show.”

 

“ _Great! Now…could you come get me?_ ”

 

“Wait, why? You’re really early.”

 

“ _Soooo, I’m kind of being held back by security right now.”_

 

This has Bambam wide-awake and all of his previous worries shutting down to complete silence. “You’re _what_?!”

 

“ _Right? Ridiculous! I have a ticket and everything – watch me go home and leave a bad review on Yelp!_ ”

 

“Hyung, this isn’t a restaurant,” Bambam actually smiles a little, standing up and poking his head out the door.

 

“ _Well I’m leaving a bad review_ somewhere _!_ ”

 

“Where are you?” Bambam asks, exiting the room and making his way out of the building. Jackson is most likely at the main entrance, but he’s asking to make sure anyway. More importantly, just _why_ is Jackson about to get kicked out before the show even started?

 

“ _In front of the VIP area!_ ”

 

Bambam halts in his step. “You’re _what?!_ ” He repeats for the second time. He speeds up now, hurrying outside and pushing through doors. Bambam didn’t give Jackson a VIP ticket – those are front seats reserved for the press and judges, as well as the few sponsors that actually bothered to send a representative.

 

“ _Please hurry, I feel threatened._ ”

 

And Jackson hangs up on him, just like that. Appalled, Bambam even takes a hot minute to look at his phone to make sure that the phone call was real. He sighs audibly, pocketing the device and moving forward. He’s going to have to make this quick and return to the dressing room as soon as possible. The line-up needs a revision and following that, depending on who will wear Moonbyul’s designated pieces, the gowns themselves might need some temporary tailoring.

 

When Bambam finally rounds a corner and follows the trail of the red carpet, his eyes dart rapidly in an attempt to find Jackson. However, the only two people in a good distance in front of him are the security guard hired for the event and a highly suspicious-looking man in an all-black tracksuit with not even a sliver of skin exposed making wild body gestures. Certainly, the two of them fit the scenario described by Jackson, but there’s no way that shady person could be –

 

“Bambam!” Said shady person twists and waves at Bambam.

 

Bambam blinks at the man, unresponsive until it hits him that it _really is_ Jackson. Bambam covers his face in embarrassment as the security raises an eyebrow at him. Oh god. That explains why Jackson was stopped by the security.

 

Jackson is…completely unrecognizable. Not only is he in a full body tracksuit, but he’s also wearing toe socks with sandals. He has on a snapback, a facemask, and a pair of sunglasses that are bigger than half of his face. And to top it off, he has an old camera hanging around his neck. He looks – Bambam grimaces – one hundred percent like a pervert who’s about to commit a crime. Not someone who’s about to attend a fashion show.

 

“See! I really am here for the fashion show!”

 

Bambam scurries over and apologizes for the inconvenience, pulling Jackson behind him and making sure he doesn’t cause any more trouble. The security already looks unconvinced as it is; there’s no need to aggravate him.

 

“And you are?” The security asks him.

 

“I’m one of the competitors.” Bambam shows off his badge. “He’s my friend; I think he just got lost. I’m really sorry.”

 

“Hm…”

 

Bambam turns his head to see Jackson peeping over his shoulder. Even without seeing it, Bambam can tell that he’s immaturely sticking out his tongue at the guard behind that facemask.

 

“I suppose I can let you go…if your friend here takes off that get-up,” the security gestures at his face.

 

Bambam looks over at Jackson expectedly, but Jackson scoots closer and whispers, “ _I’m not supposed to be seen at events without telling my agency!_ ” There’s a long pause in which Bambam simply sweats while the security stares at him dead in the eye.

 

“Uhhh – he has a bad cough,” Bambam hastily explains. He attempts to keep a straight face while Jackson suddenly starts hacking in the background.

 

“He wasn’t sick five minutes ago when he was arguing with me.”

 

“It comes and goes,” Bambam nods solemnly. “Real nasty stuff, you know?” A particularly wet-sounding cough has the both of them glancing at Jackson in disgust. “Oh – but it’s not contagious.” He adds as an afterthought. “Thank you sir, we’re going now!”

 

They dash off before any further questions can be made, exiting the building. Once out of sight, Bambam turns around and pushes a little too hard at Jackson’s shoulder, causing the older man to clutch at the new injury with a hiss.

 

“Hyung, what are you wearing!” Bambam exclaims, laughing but also genuinely mortified. The stylist in him is crying.

 

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Jackson hisses again, clearing making a show out of nothing. “Why did you hit me? I have been wronged – mistreated – _abused_ all day! No one loves me.”

 

Bambam rolls his eyes to the sound of Jackson whining, grabbing his hand and leading him to the right area to be. Even though he’s not really listening, Bambam still smiles at how silly Jackson is acting. It’s like just being with him instantly puts you in a good mood. “Stop sulking, hyung, _everyone_ loves you.”

 

“Oh?” Jackson slides closer and lowers his sunglasses. “Including you?”

 

Bambam releases a fake grown of annoyance – “Including me.”

 

“ _Ohhh_!” Jackson squeals, and he’s so loud that Bambam’s cheeks actually heat up as he whips his head back and forth to make sure that no one is around. “Heart attack! I’m going to remember this forever!”

 

Bambam shakes his head. “Why were you even there? I didn’t give you a VIP ticket!”

 

“Because I’m a VIP person?”

 

Bambam laughs at the joke – until he realizes Jackson wasn’t joking. They stare at each other with straight faces, to which Jackson eventually makes a “What?” gesture with his body. Bambam decides to drop the topic. “Well anyway, like I said, you’re quite early, hyung. I don’t think the lines have even started yet.”

 

“I ended one of my schedules earlier than expected so I just had my manager drop me off.”

 

“You’ll have to wait for a long time, though.”

 

Jackson shrugs. “What are phones made for?”

 

With a bit of convincing, Bambam manages to get Jackson into his seat early, as long as he doesn’t disturb the staff. Just as Bambam finishes bowing to the staff, Jackson catches his attention with a little “hey” and a tug of his wrist. Then, he finds himself bent forward, head squished between Jackson’s chest and the crook of his arm. Surprised, Bambam can only wordlessly look up at the older man, stilling even further when their eyes meet instead of Bambam staring into the reflection of Jackson’s polarized lens.

 

“Hey.” The sound is muffled from the facemask, but Bambam can hear him loud and clear, the rest of the world being mere background noise. “You’ve been looking kind of frazzled – but you’re going to do good, okay? You’re going to do so good. I know it.”

 

As the words sink in, the weight on his shoulders disappear – like magic. Bambam blinks up at Jackson for a moment, and then he smiles slowly, softly. He would never admit it, but this was exactly what he wanted – needed – to hear. After the chaos that was the rehearsal, everything felt like it was just going to go downhill from there. It felt hopeless, like he had been working for nothing.

 

“Besides, even if you don’t win or whatever, _fuck the judges_ , I’ll buy your clothes and sponsor you myself!”

 

Bambam grins and huffs from his nose, causing Jackson to tighten his hold and swing him around. “Okay, okay! Thank you, hyung. I mean it.”

 

“And _I_ mean it.” Jackson finally lets him go, smacking his butt once as he walks out. Bambam yelps, whipping around to narrow his eyes at Jackson as his hands instinctively cover his bottom. “Go kill ‘em!”

 

“Of course I will!” Bambam lifts his head up high. “I’m _Bambam_.”

 

-

 

Yeah, he’s Bambam and he pretty much fucked up when he left his entire team unattended for nearly thirty minutes while he had a mini-breakdown in an electrical room and met up with a shady man. Great.

 

Bambam peeks through a gap by the door of his waiting room, spying on the girls practicing their walk and scrunching up his brows in confusion upon realizing that it’s not the same line-up that he made –

 

“There you are!”

 

The door pulls wide open and Bambam totally does not squeak at the sight of Jimin standing right in front of him. Everyone’s eyes turn towards him and he wants to shrink so far into himself that he grows three whole chins.

 

“You’re just in time – I know how uptight you are about your _theme_ or whatever so I only helped with what I could.” Jimin hands him his clipboard, the front already showing the list of the line-up. Bambam barely has time to open his mouth when Jimin zips through the room to bring his attention to one of his gowns on a dress form. “I don’t know how to fix this so I can’t help you, but the good news is this is the only one you need to work on because it’s too long on Sooyoung.”

 

Bambam looks around with wide eyes – first at Jimin, then at his models, and finally at Lisa. And oddly enough, none of them look as mad or as down as he would’ve expected from the state he left them in. “What happened?” Bambam stammers.

 

“What do you mean ‘what happened?’”

 

“Well – I thought –!” Bambam fumbles around, not quite sure how to word the situation without offending anyone. “Never mind…Jimin, what are you doing here? What about _your_ show?”

 

“I’m ready,” Jimin answers matter-of-factly. Bambam tries not to visibly deflate, because it’s demoralizing to know that Jimin can do so well on her own even if he does wish her the best. It shows that she doesn’t need him even though they’ve spent so much time working on projects together in the past – meanwhile, Bambam’s realizing just how lacking he is in terms of organization and teamwork. He’s realizing how much he depended on Jimin to keep calm and be strong for the both of them. “I saw your rehearsal.”

 

Bambam purses his lips grimly. “Yeah…”

 

“I saw it and I _knew_ you’d be like this!” Jimin accentuates her point with a jab to his shoulder, to which Bambam whines and clutches his injury. “You blamed yourself for that, didn’t you?” She accuses.

 

Bambam stays quiet, which confirms her accusation.

 

“Idiot,” Jimin huffs, but the tone is so fond anyone in the room could have mistaken it for something else. “It’s not your fault. Our scumbag school just doesn’t put in money where they should. But the good news is they’re fixing the runway right now as we speak – it’s going to be a high gloss vinyl instead.” A few heads nod in the room. “Anyway, I came here knowing that you’d stress yourself out somehow. You’ve got a real talent for that, you know?”

 

“Sorry?” His voice lilts at the end and his shoulders cave in, sounding apologetic once again. “I didn’t mean to bother you, Jimin. I shouldn’t be holding you back from your own show so…thank you. I think I got this now.”

 

“You got this,” Jimin repeats after him with confidence and straightens him up. They share a smile and Bambam looks after her as she heads toward the door.

 

“Thank you,” Bambam says one more time.

 

Jimin pauses, her hand resting on the doorframe. After a second, her head turns, a cool and almost cocky expression on her face. “Of course. Aren’t we partners?”

 

Surprised, but pleasantly so, Bambam rushes out a quick “Yeah” just in time to see her grin behind her hair.

 

Bambam is only pulled out of his thoughts after he feels a soft touch on his hand, which soon morphs into actual handholding when he notices it’s Lisa.

 

Then, it hits him. He’s not just doing this for himself. He’s doing this for everyone who believes in him. He’s been babied and supported by all of his friends for the past _months_ when they could have chosen to leave him alone with his own problems. They’ve listened to him and helped him out in any way they can when Bambam never even asked. There’s Yugyeom, who’s probably already running out of class to wait in line while carrying some stupid, embarrassing poster to cheer him on. There’s Jimin, who went out of her way to look for him because she got worried even though it would be to her benefit for Bambam to mess up; in the end, he’s still her competition. There’s Lisa, who’s baring the burden of getting a wardrobe change five times without complaining even once and all for nothing in return. There’s even Jackson, who’s so busy he doesn’t have to come at all, but did just because he promised to.

 

He can’t just take all of that for granted. He’s going to make it worth it. He’s going to make them proud.

 

Bambam lets out a deep breath – and everyone can sense the change in the air as he yanks his beanie off and pans the room with fire in his eyes. Lisa lets go of his hand and takes a step back, smiling widely.

 

“Sorry about all of that. Let’s get to work, shall we?”

 

“Yes, boss!” Lisa chirps, and everyone snickers as the new title flusters Bambam.

 

-

 

Yugyeom finally gets to his seat after waiting nearly half an hour in line despite coming early. Minghao, Jungkook, and Changkyun tail after him. They’re all in their personal best outfits, trying their best to fit into the fashion scene after knowing that there’s a possibility the camera will pan to them during the live stream. Jimin had warned them (read: Jungkook) _not_ to wear white t-shirts and jeans or she’ll refuse to associate with them for their blatant disrespect towards fashion. They have to dress up so they won’t stick out and bring bad attention. So they tried, they really did. But it’s not helping that Yugyeom is apparently sitting next to a bum.

 

The four of them stare at the man in an all-black tracksuit as he snores loudly in his seat, head bobbing now and then in his sleep. How he’s managing to do that in all this noise is beyond them.

 

“…We can’t sit somewhere else?” Minghao eyes the empty seats in front of them.

 

“No, there are assigned seats,” Yugyeom informs them, sadly.

 

“He looks – _so sketchy_. And everyone’s looking at us – surely people don’t think we’re with him, right?”

 

“It’ll be fine we’ll just…give him some space.” Yugyeom leans away from the man but nearly jumps out of his seat when he suddenly wakes up, startling the boys. They abruptly look away as the man takes off his sunglasses to rub his eyes…though the curious part of Yugyeom wants to take a closer look just to see what he looks like.

 

“ _Don’t stare!_ ” Minghao hisses with an elbow to Yugyeom’s ribs. Yugyeom gulps and faces the front. Right. They’re here to support Bambam and Jimin, not get in trouble and potentially get murdered underneath the spotlight. Everything is fine up until the lights dim and the stage livens up, an emcee entering to give the obligatory spiel about the competition and how it is an honor for these aspiring designers to have a chance to showcase their talents under the eyes of distinguished professionals in the industry.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

Yugyeom whips his head towards the suspicious man.

 

“Do you mind if I take a look at that?”

 

Yugyeom follows the man’s line of sight and lands on the folded program in his hand. “Oh – uh, sure, no problem.”

 

It only takes another minute for him to feel a tap on his arm.

 

“Sorry, do you happen to know someone named Bambam? I can’t find his name on the list.”

 

Minghao, Jungkook, and Changkyun all turn to stare at the man upon the name drop as if it wasn’t obvious that they were eavesdropping on Yugyeom during the entire, seemingly harmless, exchange. Well. Now it might not be so harmless.

 

“Uh, Bambam uses his legal name for stuff like this, so he’s actually right here –!”

 

Minghao slaps Yugyeom’s mouth shut and leans over him with narrowed eyes. Trust Yugyeom to be naïve enough to give away personal information of Bambam to a stranger. “How do you know Bambam?” Because Bambam’s not the type to know someone who dresses like _that_.

 

“I’m his friend. Are you guys his friends too?”

 

“We’re his _best_ friends.”

 

Yugyeom smiles a little behind Minghao’s hand. Minghao sounds so defensive and smug to be able to one-up the guy, even though it’s such a minor detail.

 

“Oh! Nice to meet you, I’m…” The man pauses to look behind his shoulders several times before holding out his hand. The action only heightens their suspicion. “I’m Jackson.”

 

 _Huh_. The name does ring a bell, but there’s no way the _top celebrity_ Jackson would be here without his face being all over the promotional ads. Someone like him would be paid to sit in the front row, not pay to sit with the general audience. This must be some other Jackson.

 

“Hi…Jackson.” Yugyeom is finally released from Minghao’s hold as Minghao takes the initiative to shake hands. “Sorry, could you take off your facemask? It’d be cool to have a face to match with your name.”

 

“Right! Sorry, I totally forgot I was wearing all this – it’s like second nature to me, you know?” Jackson laughs while the others join him awkwardly. He looks around again, causing the boys to glance at each other with apprehension. It’s dark where they’re sitting; it makes no sense for Jackson to be so on guard as if he’s afraid of someone watching him.

 

But then Jackson does pull down his mask and take off his sunglasses – and Changkyun nearly screeches right then and there.

 

“ _No way_!”

 

Yugyeom’s jaw drops. Even if he’s heard about Jackson through Bambam, this is still his very first meeting with a celebrity. And all of a sudden, Jackson is _glowing_. It must be the star quality or something because the trash bag – tracksuit – he is wearing now looks casual and cool instead of like an unemployed uncle next door. The effect still remains even after Jackson slides the facemask back up and finishes shaking everyone’s eager hands.

 

They know they’re supposed to be paying attention to the fashion show, but Minghao and Changkyun are nearly lying on top of Yugyeom at this rate just to talk to Jackson between the breaks. It makes Yugyeom wonder if he should’ve sat with Jungkook instead. (And he really was – Jungkook was holding onto the edge of his leather jacket as they found their way through the aisles, but then someone else had to get through, and the connection was broken as Minghao handed Yugyeom a program.)

 

“I’ve seen like – _all_ your movies,” Changkyun nods enthusiastically.

 

“ _All_ of them?” Jackson laughs. “Even the old ones? How embarrassing – but, thank you!”

 

Yugyeom looks over to Jungkook and is surprised when they make eye contact. They turn their sights back to the stage quickly, and Yugyeom mulls over how strange it is that they did that as he watches a model pose in a black and white outfit. Why did he instinctively look away? It’s as if he caught Jungkook in the middle of something when he shouldn’t have.

 

Three contestants in, and Yugyeom is already tired of sitting so straight. It’s not so much that he’s being forced to, it’s more that the atmosphere is so stifling that it feels like he’s being judged on his every move. Although they’re in general seats, they’re still close enough to the front to be illuminated by the lights every now and then. And in those moments, Yugyeom gets to see how suffocating and pressuring it is. The judges and the special guests, some young and some middle aged, all have unreadable straight faces. It’s cold and cruel, Yugyeom thinks, to receive such a monotonous and half-hearted applause at the end of such pain-staking hard work. They act like they’re all ready to move on to the next person as if it was a chore and that they have better things to do than crush an artist’s dream. It’s amazing how anyone can keep smiling after seeing that.

 

“Jimin’s next!” Jungkook exclaims, just in case none of them are paying attention.

 

Changkyun abruptly stops his chattering and leans back into his seat. “Oh my god, pay attention,” he smacks Minghao.

 

Minghao hits him back with a glare, and both Jungkook and Yugyeom look at them warningly before they all actually settle down.

 

The music changes and the first model that walks out is a man in a navy pinstripe blazer, sleeves cuffed at the elbows, and matching trousers. The trousers are cut above the ankles to reveal maroon socks and fur-lined slippers.

 

Yugyeom first notices Jackson lifting up his hat to see better, then sees how the judges seem to be – different. They look genuinely interested, and Yugyeom breathes in, feeling hopeful for Jimin. He hopes that Bambam will get the same response later.

 

Both Jimin and Bambam have been uncharacteristically quiet during the entire duration of their project, which means that the only reason Yugyeom even knows what Bambam’s completed collection looks like is because he lives with him. So when more and more male models enter the runway with various forms of formalwear, Yugyeom’s eyes widen with the realization that Jimin has chosen to solely do menswear.

 

“It’s like – they’ve switched,” Yugyeom marvels to himself.

 

“Huh?” Minghao asks absentmindedly, eyes following the train of models rounding the stage.

 

“Jimin and Bambam – she’s doing what Bambam usually does and – well – Bambam’s not doing menswear this year.”

 

“…That’s kind of crazy. It’s as if they worked together all along. Except, I bet without Jimin to hold his crazy ideas back, Bambam went all out, huh?”

 

“Yeah,” Yugyeom smiles. “He went all out.”

 

They fall silent through the rest of her collection out of sheer concentration, watching with amazement every time a model passed by looking like they were plucked right out of a high-end brand’s showcase. Jimin’s show is captivating because of its quirky yet sophisticated designs, which is tough to pull off on menswear where there is less creative freedom. The crisp and clean lines of her stitching also highlight her impeccable skills – there’s not a fold out of place or an awkward, unflattering cut. It’s clearly made by a person who _knows_ their textiles, a person who doesn’t use a single type of fabric purely based on aesthetics.

 

When Jimin finally comes out to take her bow, the boys can barely keep still in their seats, clapping fiercely and drawing her attention to them without being obnoxiously rude. She giggles behind her hand – causing Changkyun to scoff and shake his head because they all know that it’s all pretenses for the crowd. If it were just the gang alone, they’d be able to see the back of her throat as she cackled with her head thrown back.

 

The judges seem to take a longer time with her, whispering back and forth while scribbling on their clipboards. The audience is also buzzing around them. Yugyeom crosses his fingers that it’s a good sign. And honestly, with no bias at all, Jimin has been the best contestant they’ve seen so far. She has a real shot at winning the whole thing at this rate.

 

Things settle back down for the next two contestants, but Minghao watches warily as Yugyeom gets more fidgety as time goes by.

 

“Stop that.”

 

“Stop what?”

 

“ _That_ ,” Minghao puts a hand on Yugyeom’s shaking leg. “Why are _you_ nervous? Bambam is going to be fine.”

 

“I’m not nervous,” Yugyeom denies and shifts in his seat. Minghao just gives him a look and rolls his eyes. They’re silly, those two. It’s exactly like when Yugyeom is about to come on stage for a dance competition and Bambam starts picking on the hem of his shirt while asking useless questions to distract himself. They worry for each other and it’s obvious that they’ll protect each other with their lives. Minghao wouldn’t be surprised if they had something stupid like a friend-anniversary planned.

 

After the applause dies out and the panel gives the “okay” signal to move on to the next contestant, Yugyeom scoots to the edge of his seat and holds his breath, his hands balling up on his lap. Jackson seems to notice a change in his behavior and starts to sit straighter too. He takes off his glasses just in time for the music to change and the lights to dim.

 

It’s the absence of light that ironically captures everyone’s attention. Everyone’s show so far has been filled with bright lights in order to highlight every detail of their designs, which in some cases might be a double-edged sword. But what’s even more daring is the sight in front of them: a dim and hazy glow that is just enough to cover the length of the runway, colored warm and yellow to match the softness of the music. For a long minute, the lights only rock back and forth, a harmonic motion that darkens the main stage to almost pitch black every time it comes towards the end of the empty runway.

 

Yugyeom can feel his heart thrumming in his chest, eyes unblinking. But even with his full attention trained on the stage, his mouth still falls open with a gasp that’s echoed by the audience around him.

 

As if by magic, the first model appears on the stage and walks with the light in perfect timing. Yugyeom has seen all of Bambam’s dresses before, but seeing them now, on stage – _perfect_ – is described with nothing else but amazing.

 

The opening dress is white and pure, made of a mix of satin and chiffon that is form fitting in all the right areas to accentuate the model’s curves and femininity. Accessories are kept light; only a matching white choker is adorned to bring attention to the highlighted collarbones. Aside from the beauty of the gown before them, the most surprising aspect of all is the iridescent blindfold looping around long curled hair to form a ribbon. Everyone stills in their seat as the model approaches the end of the runway and stops right at the edge, posing daintily for a brief second before sinking into darkness as the light hits the beginning of the runway once again. Another model appears onstage at that moment, wearing the same blindfold and gracing the runway in yet another white dress.

 

“Can they... _see_ in that?” Changkyun whispers, more in awe to himself than anything.

 

“They must,” Minghao answers, but isn’t too sure himself. The blindfold is glittery and reflects too much shine in this angle to be able to tell.

 

From then on, there isn’t a single opportunity to look away.

 

As the cascade of designs continue to fill the stage, each one as captivating as the next, there seems to be no time to fully appreciate the entire look before another flutter of chiffon draws upon the attention of onlookers. From what began as a seemingly all-white collection, it became clear to the audience that there was a transformation occurring before their eyes. The girls in the beginning all had ribbons over their eyes, so only the darkest of lashes could be seen as a wispy shadow beneath the sheer, glittering fabric. Their lips were painted a pale peachy nude and their hair were neatly plaited behind their backs. The dresses were tight and relatively simple.

 

And now, the next model to rise in the line-up elicits a stir in the audience as the light sweeps across her face and reveals her fairy-like image in a soft, baby pink halter-neck that cinches perfectly around her waist. The pleats on her top transition perfectly into the long, asymmetric skirt, where faint flower petals can be seen printed onto the very end of the train. The slit on the left side of the skirt is held loosely together by what seems to be the same strips of fabric as the blindfold. And as for the blindfold, it’s no longer tied together above the eyes - it hangs loosely on her nose bridge, revealing closed, glossy lids.

 

The first step forward feels like it’s in slow motion, especially as the air flows through the slit of the skirt and lifts it into fluidity. And yet – her eyes remain closed.

 

The confidence in her strides is contrasted by the nervousness of the audience. How is she so sure that she’s walking straight with her eyes closed? How will she know when she’ll reach the end? Who will catch her if she falls? Even the security and staff are twitching by the door with apprehension. But there’s one thing that’s undeniable: she commands the runway.

 

Lisa stops just a step behind the edge and places her fingers gently on her heart, her head tilted towards the side. And just as the darkness takes her as it did the other girls, she opens her eyes at the very last moment, letting the piercing grays of her contacts stun the audience.

 

The models that follow after her are rid of their blindfolds, showcasing their neutral eyes and flushed cheeks. Gradually, the pinks deepen and the style transitions into an airy delicateness that makes them all look –

 

 _Ethereal_ , Yugyeom thinks with a sigh.

 

The floral theme is prominent, yet not at all overwhelming. The lace detailing and sown embellishments range from roses to peonies and azaleas as the extravagant gowns become increasingly complex. There’s care and obvious hard work put into each design, not to mention that all the dress types are unique as well. There are open backs, sheer fronts, bell sleeves, and intricate incisions – there’s so much to admire, it’s hard to believe that this is the work of just _one_ designer.

 

Lisa appears once more to show off a dusty pink colored gown before disappearing from the stage past the predicted rotation of models. It’s not until nearly the end, when the colors have reached the reds, that Yugyeom realizes with a start that the entire show has been depicting a blossoming. His eyes glitter as it all makes sense – how it was pure and white in the beginning and slowly began to deepen to red once the blindfold was taken off. He’s not quite sure what the meaning of the blindfold is yet, but he doesn’t have time to ponder over it as the excitement of the crowd brings his attention back to the stage.

 

And there, in all her regality, is Lisa striding forward in a scarlet red gown with a long, billowing cape that seems to stretch the length of the runway in wisps of red smoke. She’s gotten a complete makeover during the time the rest of the collection was shown, and now it’s made clear exactly why Bambam couldn’t stop talking about her for days after that time Yugyeom found them in their apartment. The dress was _made_ for her to conquer the world.

 

Her blonde hair, no longer in a plait, now frames her face in tousled waves. A crown of red gerbera daisies rests on her head, matching the intricate lace and embroidery on the cape. Her makeup is bold and daring, where touches of gold have been built onto the previously soft and earthy tones of her shadow and liner. For her accessories, a single white choker decorates her neck. Unlike all the other dresses – which have been beautiful, but innocent – the scarlet gown is provocative in more ways than one. The cut of the top is low and tight, held up by only two strips of lace that crosses down the back. The boosting of her bust is further accentuated by the smallness of her waist, giving the illusion of an hourglass figure. Rubies and garnets form the shape of a daisy from the midsection to the hips, disrupted only by the twin slits down the front of the skirt. Every step reveals the long length of her legs.

 

Seemingly much too fast for the audience’s liking, it’s already the end of her walk, and there’s a collective motion of people craning their necks to catch the very last glimpse of Lisa as she turns around with a majestic swing of her cape. From there, everyone can admire the fact that the gradient on the cape is shockingly made by an exhaustive amount of individually embroidered flowers. The light stops its swing as Lisa departs backstage, leaving an empty stage but a fully mesmerized audience. When no other design makes its way to the stage anymore and the dim lights brighten to its normal capacity, Yugyeom almost makes a sigh of disappointment. He wanted it to go on forever.

 

But in the next second, he feels a surge of pride rising up his chest and curling his lips into a goofy grin. That was Bambam’s work – and it was one of the most beautiful fashion shows he’d ever seen, never mind him being a dance major. He’s practically an honorary expert, a natural consequence of being Bambam’s best friend. He knows enough to recognize that he’s probably just witnessed the rise of a distinguished designer.

 

As per tradition, all the models reappear in a line for the ending in their most recently worn outfit. The applause that ensues practically echoes off the walls with its sheer volume.

 

Finally, Lisa reenters the stage from the left – and Bambam, from the right.

 

“ _Again_?!” The group can’t help but exclaim at the sight of Bambam’s styled, bright red hair.

 

“I swear to god he’s _balding_.”

 

Still, Bambam looks stunning as he meets Lisa in the center for their walk down the runway as the finale. He has on a simple, white oversized blouse that is tucked into skinny black trousers. His makeup is minimal – just enough to add dimension to his face in front of all the lights. His emerald green contacts complement his red hair and stand out just enough to differentiate him from his models. A matching satin choker and small hoop earrings are enough to complete the look.

 

Bambam offers his arm to Lisa, who takes it with a smile that completely overturns her chic image. The applause grows impossibly louder once the pair reaches the end of the runway. Lisa takes a step back for Bambam to take a deep bow, looking around with disbelief at the warm reception. He visibly swallows and brings his hands together for more bows, a practice that surfaces from his Thai nationality. After noticing the boys and Jackson at the side, he breaks into a wide grin and crescent eyes. Eventually, the emcee has to forcibly stop all the applause to create a quiet environment for the judging to proceed.

 

For some time, the entire hall remains quiet for the panel to discuss amongst themselves. Bambam takes a deep breath and tries not to focus too much on the judges or the rapidly flashing cameras blinding his vision. It’d make him nervous to think about what they could possibly saying; and if he’s too nervous, there’s a high chance he could just fall flat on his face trying to get off the stage. For now, he’s just happy to have made it to the end. It’s been a long, stressful, yet fulfilling project. Anything else from now on is out of his control.

 

Being busy backstage up until the very last minute, Bambam didn’t have the opportunity to watch his fellow competitors as they presented their collections. So, he waits patiently for his cue to leave, oblivious to how contrastingly long they are keeping him on stage as compared to the rest.

 

“What’s taking them so long?” Jackson grumbles quietly with his arms crossed, eyes concentrated on Bambam.

 

Yugyeom’s eyebrows shoot up, genuinely surprised to see that Jackson cares enough to feel…anxious about it. Though he supposes he shouldn’t be so judgmental – Jackson _did_ come after all. Of course he cares.

 

Although that suddenly brings a brief, yet sour thought across his mind.

 

_Why isn’t Jaebum here?_

 

“Mr. Bhuwakul,” the director of the university’s fashion department speaks into the mic.

 

Surprised, the emcee hurriedly hands Bambam her mic. There’s a murmur that ensues. No one else had been personally addressed so far.

 

“Yes, ma’am?” Bambam replies with wide eyes.

 

“Would you so kindly explain your work to us, briefly?”

 

Bambam blinks at her for a second – and then he smiles bashfully. He didn’t think he’d have to explain his, well, _theme_. They’re usually very straightforward, but perhaps the blindfolds left some unanswered questions.

 

“For this competition, I’ve designed my collection of evening gowns under a central theme: love as a blossom.” He can’t help but blush with embarrassment – it sounds even cheesier out loud. “It begins with white – for blind innocence. Pink is the start of falling and _knowing_ that you’re falling. And red is…ultimately…” Bambam trails off at the end, his last word barely caught by the mic. But everyone can fill in the blank. “ _Love_.”

 

Yugyeom’s hands automatically ball up, his eyes wide as he looks around to see if anyone else noticed Bambam’s implications. He’s – it’s – it’s practically a confession…if Jaebum was here. But no one else looks fazed – maybe Yugyeom’s too sensitive to Bambam’s feelings after being around him for so long, so close.

 

“Thank you,” the director smiles and puts her mic down. Considering it over, Bambam returns his to the emcee and lets out a sigh of relief. He didn’t know what he’d do if it suddenly turned into an interview.

 

Soon enough, Bambam gets his cue to leave from a staff with a prompter in the back. He bows to the audience once again as another round of applause erupts upon his departure. His models follow him backstage quietly in a line to avoid disturbing the staff that are still working. There’s only one more competitor after him and then they’ll have to sit tight while waiting for the results. For now…

 

Bambam holds the door to his waiting room for the last model to get in. He closes it with a small click and lifts his head up to look at all of them. Time stops as he watches all their faces light up with elation, and then, a burst.

 

“ _WOOOOOO!_ ”

 

Bambam initially winces at the high-pitched screaming but immediately laughs and joins in with his own shouts. Lisa kicks off her heels and nearly tackles him into the wall with a hug.

 

“You did it!” Lisa squeals happily.

 

“ _We_ did it,” Bambam corrects, grinning at everyone in the room. “Oh thank _god_ it’s over. I thought I was going to go crazy!”

 

“We did so well! Did you see the press? The audience? The judges?” Lisa bounces. “They _loved_ it! You’re going to win and be _so_ famous! All the fashion houses are going to trip over themselves trying to recruit you!”

 

Bambam laughs again, feeling flattered and happy. “Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves, Lisa. How could you tell what they were thinking?”

 

“Unlike you, I had time to monitor the screen,” Lisa points to the TV on the wall, which is still showing a stream of the fashion show.

 

“I don’t expect anything out of this – I’m just happy to finish a show that’s solely mine. It took a lot to get here, and getting my name out was all that really mattered. Thank you so much for helping me out, everyone! I’ll definitely take you all out for a meal!”

 

“Really? To what?”

 

Bambam sends them a thumbs-up, wiggling his eyebrows. “To chicken nuggets.”

 

They joke around some more, completely relaxed now that the hardest part is over. The models begin to change into their normal clothes, so Bambam steps outside and waits around with his phone. After spying a monitor down the hall, he decides to sit in front of it to watch whatever is left of the show. It doesn’t capture his attention for long though. Now that he’s alone, he can feel the high rapidly fading and his thoughts begin to run in different directions.

 

Bambam turns on his phone – and tries not to feel disappointed at the lack of notifications.

 

“Hey.”

 

Bambam jumps in his seat and quickly puts his phone away. “Oh. Hey, Jimin.”

 

“Why do you look like that when you’ve literally just ended everyone’s careers?” She frowns.

 

“Oh please, as if you hadn’t ended mine by being way better at menswear in one show than I did in my entire portfolio,” Bambam shoots back with a nudge and a smile. “Great job.”

 

“You too,” Jimin nudges back twice as hard. Just this once, Bambam won’t tease her about her lack of restraint. “Did you see those idiots out there? Absolutely embarrassing!”

 

“Horrid,” Bambam nods. “They’re cancelled from our fashion shows from now on.”

 

Bambam and Jimin hurdle up for a while longer until Lisa joins them and gets introduced to Jimin. Then, Bambam just sits back and watches amusedly as the girls start a roundabout conversation of just flattery and admiration. And if Jimin catches him checking his phone again, she doesn’t say anything about it.

 

Eventually, all the designers are called back on stage for the results of the competition and it’s the only time friends and family can be as loud as they want upon each contestant’s entrance. This obviously doesn’t bode well with Jimin and Bambam – they both hide their cringing fingers with extra bright smiles as Changkyun starts waving his arms in the air madly while Yugyeom, Minghao, and Jungkook take turns screaming each syllable of their names. Bambam is grateful that Jackson is only standing up and clapping.

 

“That’s my boy!” Jackson roars out of nowhere, and Bambam’s eye twitches as he sees a good two rows turn to stare at him and the others.

 

…Never mind, Jackson’s embarrassing too.

 

“What a warm welcome for our talented designers!” The emcee chirps. Bambam and Jimin share a look before facing the front. They listen to a long segment dedicated towards thanking all the sponsors again and clap whenever someone finishes a short speech. The panel congratulates them on a job well done and offers some general encouragement and advice for all of them. However, this not being their first competition, it’s nothing Jimin or Bambam have never heard before. It’s all scripted, and not much of it gets changed every year.

 

So unintentionally, Bambam starts to zone out.

 

His show had ultimately gone well, despite its initial hiccups. It wasn’t perfect, but he’s proud of it. He’s sure Jaebum will be too, once he comes home and lets Bambam show him what he missed.

 

The spotlight suddenly shines on Bambam, almost causing him to stumble back in shock. He mildly registers the applause, but there’s been so much of that that it doesn’t clue him in to anything that’s going on. Thankfully, Jimin and three others are shining too. Bambam sucks in a large breath. Oh. Top five. Okay – unexpected, but he’ll take it.

 

The selected five are asked to step forward, and they all whisper congratulations to each other while the emcee pumps up the crowd. Bambam grins – he’s never made it this far in something this big before. It feels good to know that his hard work has paid off, and it’s already such an honor to be a selected participant in the competition. There were a lot of trials meant for weeding out numbers due to the high volume of applicants. He’s especially happy that Jimin is here with him – he knows she’s going to take home the prize. No one else has been as good as her.

 

Bambam claps enthusiastically as a guy next to him is announced as fifth place. The judges praise his use of color and the cameras flash rapidly as he is handed a small check. Bambam continues smiling, believing that he’s next. Fourth place sounds great – he would be able to give out a bonus to Lisa and help Moonbyul out with her medical fees. But then the spotlight doesn’t shine on him; it shines on the girl next to Jimin instead.

 

Now, his heart starts racing. Top three? Bambam somehow manages to clap and keep his smile in tact. His pupils shake at the implications. That’s a really high ranking – that’s going to get published in W Korea with at least a two-page spread.

 

“And third place is…Kim Minjoo!”

 

Bambam really can’t hide the pure look of mystification as he automatically turns to Jimin, who mirrors his expression. He gasps while Jimin starts tearing up even before they announce which place they respectively earned. The spotlight lands on them and the audience nearly goes wild.

 

“The winner is…”

 

Jimin reaches for his hand.

 

“Bhuwakul Kunpimook!”

 

-

 

(“I was so scared!” Bambam cries into his many bouquets of flowers. “Everyone looked so scary when I did my rehearsal, how would I know I’d have a chance at winning?!”

 

“ _You_? _Scared?_ Oh, Bambam, everyone was scared of _you_! The moment you went up there with Lisa it was game over!” Jimin cackles.)

 

-

 

(“Noona?” Bambam gasps, dropping everything to rush over to Nana. “You came!”

 

“Of course, kid.”)

 

-

 

While everyone is busy fighting over which car Jackson is going to carpool in for the joint celebratory dinner, Bambam sneaks to the side and checks his phone. He immediately smiles, his eyes glittering happily when he sees the two missed calls and three text messages from Jaebum. He decides to open up the texts first, reading through them quickly and feeling jittery with the need to tell Jaebum the good news. It leaves a little “read” check mark now that he’s scrolled through them.

 

“Bambam!” Jackson grabs him from behind. “What are you doing? Let’s go!”

 

“Oh – hold on, I need to text –!”

 

“Oh _come on_ , leave the texting for later! _Jackson Wang_ is taking you out for Hanwoo beef!” Jackson swings him around, ignoring his spluttering as he sends Bambam a wink that shuts him up. All his friends cheer at the sound of Hanwoo, and Bambam swears that they’ve been won over in just a single day.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /DROPS THIS TERRIBLE HOT POTATO AND RUNS AWAY CRYING. I KNOW I'M HORRIBLE IDK HOW IT TURNED INTO 3 MONTHS EITHER JUST KNOW THAT I DIDN'T MEAN TO DO THIS TO Y'ALL AND I TRIED MY BEST BUT MY BEST WASN'T GOOD ENOUGH 
> 
> TTnTT
> 
> big coincidence! I've been planning for Bambam's fashion line to be based on red flowers since forever but never really knew enough about flowers to know what kind (lmao other than roses) but with his recent Bambam x Represent line making all my dreams come true, I was able to happily incorporate it into this AU! I'm honestly so proud of him and his cause. 
> 
> if you're still reading this or if you're new - thank you so much!! it means so much to have readers; it really keeps me motivated to finish this fic (er, which will take a while to do. /stares forlornly at my long ass outline.) 
> 
> (also, I'd like to say that in light of recent events, know that you're loved and that you matter! if you're ever feeling sad, don't be afraid to ask for help. I'm like, a derpy ball of blankets at best, but I'm always willing to listen and be friends. :))


	10. be with you, be right there

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Explicit Sexual Content

 

 

 

“What do you think of these, Jinyoung-ah?”

 

Jinyoung looks up from his laptop, eyes falling on an open box of white gold earrings. They’re from Niwaka, where Jinyoung recalls Jaebum making a stop at after spending a particularly long lunch with a client. Both of them know enough Japanese to respectably hold a conversation, but the need of a translator is still apparent for the kind of business that they handle and it always prolongs the meetings just shy of being unbearable. How Jaebum had the energy to go shopping after that was unknown to Jinyoung.

 

“They’re nice,” Jinyoung admits and observes them for a little longer before diving right back into his work. “Are they for Mom?”

 

“No…no, I got her this tea set she’s always wanted.”

 

Jinyoung can’t help the way his fingers pause on the keyboard for a second as he realizes whom it’s for. “Oh,” he purses his lips. The flight attendant passes by to check on them then, and Jaebum asks for a glass of Merlot. “For him, then?”

 

Jaebum actually looks sheepish for some reason, and it naturally makes Jinyoung lower his defenses too, softening into a small smile. “It’s not too much, is it?”

 

_What a fool_ , Jinyoung thinks fondly, and then actually says it out loud. “Of course it’s too much, hyung. Who just purchases a five million won pair of earrings without an occasion? You’re spoiling him.”

 

“I…I know,” Jaebum resigns, but suddenly looks even happier, as if just the thought of Bambam and showering him in gifts is enough to bring a smile to his face. Jinyoung struggles to keep silent, to keep his worries to himself. He still doesn’t think too highly of Bambam – but if anything, he’s learned it the hard way not to speak negatively of him in front of Jaebum.

 

“Money isn’t the only gift you can give him.”

 

Jaebum is – at heart, too soft. Too reckless. He’s the type to choose all or nothing, and Jinyoung has already seen him give up everything for the wrong path to see it happen again. And yet, in the one second that he had looked away, Jaebum was already knee-deep.

 

“Sometimes I feel like it’s all I have,” Jaebum says with a dry huff of laughter.

 

“Does he make you feel that way?” Jinyoung fiercely asks. His change in tone is so sudden that Jaebum has to gape at him for a second before the same flight attendant arrives with the requested glass of wine. Jaebum acknowledges her bow and then turns his full attention to Jinyoung. His eyes are continuously surprised, and Jinyoung slowly feels embarrassment creep up his neck for his awful reaction.

 

“No, not at all – I was just being…” Jaebum purses his lips. “You know how I joke about the company. I live in the office more than I do in my own home.”

 

“Right,” Jinyoung clears his throat. He pointedly ignores Jaebum’s crinkling eyes at him. He knows better than anyone how red his ears can get.

 

“You’re so wound up,” Jaebum laughs. Jinyoung rolls his eyes – it’s just Jaebum’s nicer way of saying he’s got a stick up his ass. (And then all of a sudden, Jinyoung is reminded of when Jaebum used to be more crass, dirty and blunt with his words. Jinyoung is reminded of twenty-year-old Jaebum, sitting outside on the curb with a cup ramen, who would have really said “get that stick outta your ass,” word for word.) “Here,” Jaebum hands him the glass of wine. “It’s actually for you. Why don’t you just relax a little and take a nap? I don’t think I’ve seen you do anything but type on that laptop all day.”

 

“I get more than a hundred emails a day, hyung, not including the ones you forward to me because you don’t want to deal with it.”

 

Jaebum has the audacity to smirk. “You’re more eloquent,” he says, as if it excuses anything. “You’ve got the perfect businessman look – people like you.”

 

“Only if I want them to.”

 

“Only if you do,” Jaebum nods, stretching the glass further towards Jinyoung. “Just call it a day. You must be tired since I decided to expedite the trip.”

 

Jinyoung sighs, and Jaebum knows that he’s won. Sure enough, Jinyoung puts his laptop to sleep and accepts the wine, downing the entire thing in one gulp. They talk for a while longer, but once Jinyoung has resigned from work, it doesn’t take long for the exhaustion to hit him and lull him to sleep. Jaebum turns off the lights above their first class seats and unfolds one of the blankets to lay over Jinyoung. It’s only a two-hour flight from Tokyo to Seoul, so Jaebum decides to stay awake. He doesn’t think he can sleep anyway, too excited to be coming home early and too anxious to see Bambam and hear about his show. The texts he sent late afternoon that day – although read – have been left unanswered. Jaebum doesn’t know if he should be worried or not…Bambam’s never left him hanging that long before.

 

Jinyoung starts snoring a little and turns on his side. When Jaebum checks the time, he finds that only ten minutes have passed.

 

_Two hours_ , Jaebum thinks dryly at his reflection on the window, _is a long time to be left in the dark_.

 

-

 

“Good night,” Jinyoung bids Jaebum goodbye, waving and stepping into his cab. Jaebum sinks into another car and briefly nods at the driver, offering a small smile. He’s an older gentleman who used to drive Jaebum around in high school before he got his license and blasted away with his newfound freedom. It’s a little ironic to be back in this seat again.

 

Even when Jaebum arrives home, it only takes a minute for him to drop off his suitcase and be out the door with his keys in hand. It’s half-past midnight, so the roads should be empty and the ride to Bambam’s apartment twice as fast. And yet, it’s just his luck that he’s hitting all the possible red lights, nearly screeching to a halt every time he’s a second too late to attempt to speed a yellow light. His eyebrow is twitching with irritation and the hand that runs through his hair messes it up more than it fixes anything. He just…doesn’t feel right. He never felt right about leaving Bambam this week in the first place but for some reason it’s hitting him especially hard now and there’s really no explanation for it other than the dark and heavy weight hanging down his chest.

 

He feels crazy, to say the least. And it doesn’t cross his mind to check if Bambam is even home or awake to be making the trip until he’s already in the driveway, staring at the pitch-black windows. Not even the porch light is on. Jaebum checks his messages again – just to make sure he didn’t miss anything. (Although that would be impossible. He has a special ringtone set for Bambam, as embarrassing as that is.) He’s disappointed, but not surprised, to find nothing in his inbox. Jaebum sits there for a while, hands on the wheel, debating whether to try the doorbell or not. He wouldn’t want to wake Bambam up if he’s already asleep, or even worse: Yugyeom. He’d feel sorry for the kid for having to deal with him in the middle of the night.

 

Just as he’s about to leave, Yugyeom’s Toyota pulls up right behind him. The headlights reflect off the mirror and blind him for a second, but Jaebum quickly shoots a hand up and steps out of his car.

 

“Jaebum hyung?” Yugyeom asks, surprised. “What are you doing here? I thought Bambam said you were in Japan.”

 

“I just got off my flight,” Jaebum explains. Before Yugyeom can reply, the passenger’s side door opens and – “Jackson?”

 

“Oh…!” Jackson squints. “Oh hyung! Hey! What are you doing here?”

 

Jaebum could ask him the same. “I just got back from a business trip – thought I could try my luck at seeing Bambam. Is he home?”

 

“He is now,” Jackson grins. Yugyeom goes to unlock the front door while Jackson pulls open the door to the Toyota’s backseat. Jackson bends over and appears to be lifting something big into his arms. Jaebum doesn’t even have time to be curious, because in the next second, a bitter taste enters his mouth as he sees that it’s _Bambam_ that Jackson is lifting effortlessly and closely to his chest. “Have you gone drinking with this one before?” Jackson bursts into laughter, recalling something funny. “What a riot! You should’ve seen him, hyung. He really knocked himself cold.”

 

“Is he okay?” Jaebum asks instead. He finds himself frowning, irritated that Jackson would laugh at Bambam drinking to the point of blacking out instead of taking care of him and preventing that from happening.

 

“Of course. He just fell asleep halfway through karaoke.” Jackson pauses and looks at Bambam. “I don’t know how though. I mean. _I_ was performing.” He closes the door with his foot and heads towards the house. Jaebum sighs in relief and catches up to him in just a few strides, forearms already up in preparation for what’s to come.

 

“Thanks, Jackson. I’ll carry him.”

 

“It’s alright; I got him.”

 

Stunned, Jaebum can only watch as Jackson hoists Bambam into a better grip and walks up the porch into where Yugyeom left the door open. But he’s careless and forgetful of the added length of Bambam lying horizontally in his arms, so he bumps Bambam’s head right on the doorframe. The audible thump is followed by an even louder cry of pain as Bambam immediately wakes up with tears filling his vision.

 

“ _Ow_ …” Bambam whines with a scrunched up face. He clutches his sore head and curls up like a shrimp.

 

“Oh – sorry, bud,” Jackson shakes with laughter. And then, with a softer, fonder voice, “You’re so cute _._ ”

 

-

 

( _“You’re so cute.”_

_“Huh?” Jinyoung turns his head from where his cheek was resting on Jaebum’s shoulder. He almost drops his lollipop and his already flushed cheeks turn even redder as he looks straight into Jackson’s eyes. Jackson turns red too – like he didn’t mean to say it and now that it’s out in the open, he can’t take it back._

_Well, he could always make it a backhanded compliment._

_“You act so stuck up but you don’t know anything about independence – you stick to Jaebum hyung like a baby! How cute.”_

_“Hey!” Jinyoung yells, ready to throw a tantrum if it weren’t for the fact that Jaebum is giving him a ride on his back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”_

_Jaebum laughs at the both of them and decides to join Jackson in teasing him, too. “You’re right – he’s_ spoiled _. Always been the perfect young master.” Jinyoung comes from old money. And with people like that, their whole life has already been planned even before their birth. It’s where Jaebum had escaped from and it’s where Jinyoung is so obviously trying to bring him back._

_They let Jinyoung get drunk off of cheap beer for the first time that night – none of the fancy wine that he’s accustomed to. “It’s_ disgusting. _How can anyone drink this?”_

_“It’s the holy water of peasants, your highness.” And yet, Jackson handed him a peach lollipop to get rid of the taste lingering in his mouth. It’s artificially sweet, but Jinyoung didn’t complain even once._ )

 

-

 

Jaebum clenches his teeth, the twinge of bitterness from before nothing like the rotten feeling that’s now pushing the air from his lungs and tainting his vision red. He doesn’t even know _why_ he’s suddenly reminded of something so far in the past, something so insignificant that he’s surprised he can even recall. But he doesn’t _like_ it. He _doesn’t like_ how he can recognize that look on Jackson’s face for what it really is. Jaebum might not have minded it back then but now – _now_ –

 

“Give him to me.”

 

Jaebum pulls Bambam away from Jackson without waiting for a reply, never minding that it’s a difficult and awkward maneuver with Bambam still being only half-asleep, in pain, and very confused. Jaebum toes off his shoes and carries Bambam to his bed, the tightness of his angered face only subsiding when he hears the small little “hyung?” beneath him. He smoothens out the furrow between his eyebrows before facing Bambam’s sleepy, blinking eyes. The delicate flutter of his lashes and the sweet pout of his full red lips aren’t new to Jaebum – but it still makes his heart skip as if it’s the first time he’s seen it.

 

“Hey,” Jaebum says softly and places a ginger hand on the back of Bambam’s head. “You okay?”

 

Bambam just stares at him for a long second until he completely closes his eyes and throws a hand over his face with a groan. “No. This is the first time I’ve ever hallucinated.”

 

Jaebum smiles amusedly at him and turns around when he hears Yugyeom walking into the room, changed from his stuffy clothes and into his pajamas.

 

“Is he up?” Yugyeom asks, but gets the answer for himself when Bambam looks up at him. “Get up, dummy. You can’t sleep with contacts on.”

 

“…Yugyeom?” Bambam squints. He looks over at Jaebum – “…Hyung?!” He shoots up from the bed, barely missing a head-butt if it weren’t for Jaebum’s reflexes. “What are you doing here? When did we get home? Where’s Jackson?”

 

“Here!” Jackson pops his head in with a grin. He’s been waiting for some attention since a good two minutes ago. It’s a long time to be waiting in unknown territory. “Well, since everyone’s safe and sound now I guess it’s my turn to leave?” He throws a thumb behind his shoulder, already beginning to backpedal out of the hallway.

 

“Wait…already?” Bambam throws his legs over the edge of the bed, ready to get up.

 

“I have a schedule tomorrow.” Jackson rolls his eyes upwards in contemplation. “I forgot what though.”

 

“Do you need a ride?” Yugyeom offers despite being absolutely ready to hit the bed. Jackson did carpool to get here after all and even paid an astronomical bill at the restaurant earlier – it’s the least Yugyeom could do.

 

“Thanks,” Jackson gives Yugyeom a friendly squeeze. “It’s cool though; my manager’s going to be here any second.”

 

Yugyeom nods. “Okay. Take care, hyung. Thank you for treating us today.”

 

“Bah, don’t worry about it.” Jackson brushes it off with a wave of his hand, but the bashful smile on his face gives away how proud he is for coolly swiping his card without a blink of an eye. Right before he leaves, Bambam tugs on his hand and invites himself in for a hug. “Hey now, what’s all this affection coming from you?” Jackson pokes at Bambam with a teasing lilt to his voice.

 

“Shut up,” Bambam grunts. And then, softer, “Thanks for being there. You came right when I was…you know. It means a lot.”

 

Jackson pats his head. “You did well.” But then once he recalls nearly busting Bambam’s head open on the doorframe earlier, Jackson has to mentally remind himself to keep it together lest he ruins the sweet moment. After the bubbling laughter dies down though, the feeling of a heated stare replaces the merry mood that encircles them. When Jackson looks up, he looks right into Jaebum’s dark, intense eyes and the sight is so shocking that a chill shoots up his spine. But it seems like the eye contact makes Jaebum realize the transparent jealousy on his face too, and so he looks away quickly, seemingly conflicted. Jackson studies him a little longer and slowly lets go of Bambam, trying not to show how affected he is by the situation.

 

“Alright, I gotta go now. See you around, yeah?” Jackson smiles at all of them. His final gaze falls on Jaebum. “You too, hyung.”

 

Jaebum’s eyes widen for a second, surprised at being addressed. Shame quickly overtakes him, and he can only reply with an apologetic, “Yeah.”

 

It’s enough for Jackson. “Yeah?” He exclaims happily. “That’s a promise! Call me when you’re not busy running a monopoly.”

 

Jaebum smiles at him lopsidedly as he finally exits the apartment, taking in a deep breath as soon as the front door shuts. Jaebum feels horrible now. He feels like a bad person for being so blatantly jealous of nothing. It’s just Jackson. Kind, loveable, handsome, _perfect_ Jackson.

 

_Stop it_ , Jaebum thinks angrily. _Stop it_.

 

He raises a hand up to his temples, pressing harshly from his brow-bone to the inner crease of his eyes.

 

“Hyung,” Bambam gasps once he sees it. He pulls Jaebum’s hand down and looks up worriedly at him. “What’s wrong?”

 

“…Nothing. I’m probably a little jet-lagged.”

 

“Oh. You should’ve gotten some rest at home then. You didn’t have to come see me.”

 

“But it was your big day and I missed it,” Jaebum’s shoulders droop, and he just…looks so stormy. Bambam wonders if he bothered and worried Jaebum too much after all with his numerous calls that afternoon. Perhaps he’ll keep the breakdown to himself and only tell him about the good things – Jaebum already has so much going on in his life. “I missed everything.”

 

“No you didn’t,” Bambam tries to comfort him. “I’ll tell you all about it…tomorrow,” he says through a yawn. He’s had a long day, topped off with a lot of alcohol and partying. Just before his hand is about to scratch the itch at the corner of his eye, Bambam realizes that he’s probably _still_ wearing all that make up from the beginning of the day. My god. He must look so gross right now.

 

“You look so pretty.”

 

Bambam looks up at Jaebum skeptically and then proceeds to stifle a laugh in both of his hands. “Oh, _no_ , no, hyung you can’t be serious.”

 

Jaebum can’t help but smile too, stepping into Bambam’s personal space and chasing his direct line of sight. “Why? Why can’t I be serious?”

 

“You’ve _got_ to be kidding or at this rate you’re just –!” Bambam peeps through his fingers, eyes full of mirth even as he rudely finishes his sentence, “Blind!”

 

“Well,” Jaebum frowns. “I suppose that _is_ a consequence of looking at something so bright.”

 

Bambam’s cheeks turn nearly as red as his hair and he quickly goes back to hiding behind his hands, whining in agony at the cheesiness while Jaebum seems to be having the time of his life, if his snickering is any indication. “You’re _disgusting_! Stop it.” But when Bambam takes a look at the smudged foundation on his hands, he thinks he’s the real disgusting one between the two of them. The sound of the tap turning off in the bathroom can be heard from where they are, so Bambam makes it his life mission to wash everything off before he crashes. They pass by Yugyeom on the way to the bathroom and exchange goodnights. It seems to be accepted without saying that Jaebum will be spending the night here.

 

A small part of Jaebum is satisfied that his toothbrush is still by the sink; that Bambam has borrowed enough clothes from him to sheepishly return to Jaebum now that he’s staying over. Once Bambam is barefaced and clean, contacts disposed, and soft and cuddly in his new pajamas, Jaebum lifts his chin up with the tips of his fingers and swoops in for the much overdue kiss. It’s kept sweet and innocent, but just this simple touch has Jaebum bursting deep in his chest. He allows himself to press a little harder – and when they break, Jaebum lets Bambam go with an inaudible sigh. It’s only been a few days apart, but it feels like he’s finally breathing again.

 

Bambam tilts his head and pouts a little. “Hyung,” he begins, “I missed you lots.”

 

And really, Jaebum can’t be bothered to be mad at _anything_ in the world right now because the only thing going through his mind is – _cute. Cute cute cute._ “Mm,” Jaebum hums from the back of his throat, entranced as he sweeps his thumb over Bambam’s cheekbone and admires the beauty mark on his left eye. “Me too, baby.”

 

Bambam smiles bashfully into Jaebum’s hand, eyes sparkling as he looks up at Jaebum and grabs a fistful of his shirt, pulling the older man in. He’s silently asking for another kiss and it’s so adorable that it’s borderline painful. Jaebum didn’t think it was humanly possible to feel this strongly about anything, even less anyone…until now. Suddenly, it feels like he has so much more to lose. Jaebum can’t remember what it’s like not to have him anymore, can’t _imagine_ what it’d be like to not be the one to hold and cherish Bambam in the future. Not too long ago, Jaebum thought it would be fine for anyone to be able to win his love, as long as it meant that Bambam ended up happy. Now, he’s not too sure. Now, he wants to be the only one for him.

 

_Mine_ , Jaebum thinks as he slides his tongue past Bambam’s unsuspecting lips, licking deeply into his mouth and swallowing the surprised gasp that follows after. Bambam had only been expecting another peck, but – well, he supposes this isn’t unwelcome, not at all. He tries his best to respond to Jaebum with equal fervor, but he’s taken aback again in the span of just two seconds when his leg is hiked up to Jaebum’s waist. It’s not long before Jaebum’s got him off his feet, tongue still swirling on top of his and backing up quickly towards Bambam’s tiny bed.

 

Bambam flushes as he quickly gets the idea where this is going, a shiver running down his spine as Jaebum grabs a handful of his ass if it’s _his_. His heart is racing erratically without any indication of calming down any time soon, and it only picks up even faster when he thinks he hears a noise coming from Yugyeom’s room, the door in plain sight since their rooms are directly aligned. Jaebum hadn’t remembered to close the door behind him and – panicking – Bambam tries to pull away from Jaebum’s kisses long enough to get a word in. Asking for a full, coherent sentence is just too much at this point.

 

“Jaebum –!” He’s cut short by a particularly hard kiss and a pull on his plush bottom lip. Bambam sighs against Jaebum’s lips in pleasure, momentarily forgetting what he was going to say until his back hits the bed with a little bounce. The bedsprings creak as Jaebum’s knee digs deeply into the mattress on one side, hands coming down to trap Bambam in between them. The door is still wide open.

 

“W-wait,” Bambam gasps, though not particularly at the lack of privacy – it’s Jaebum’s dark and heavy gaze, glowing eyes trained straight at him with the kind of intensity that makes him feel small and weak…and more than just a little excited. “Door…” Bambam manages to point behind Jaebum. Jaebum follows his finger and blinks, pausing just a second before rising from the bed to gently close the door.

 

“I forgot we weren’t alone,” Jaebum admits with a sheepish smile upon returning. Bambam smiles back, encouraging Jaebum to come close by reaching out to him. For that second, Jaebum looks sweet – he looks like the lovable dork who chases Nora around the house for some attention only to have her glare at him from the top of her cat tower. He looks like the lovesick fool who calls him pretty all the time and gets all proud for no good reason other than picking out a suitable eye shadow for Bambam to use by the mirror.

 

All of this disappears when Jaebum’s eyes flicker down to his lips, mouth parting slowly as though he’s parched. His hand creeps up Bambam’s shirt, the heel of his palm dragging tantalizingly on his soft, soft skin. Jaebum lowers himself down until his teeth are grazing on Bambam’s piercing, mouthing the skin there until he can feel Bambam tense beneath him to keep the sensitivity at bay.

 

And then, lowly, Jaebum purrs right into his ear, “I’ve been thinking about you all trip.”

 

Bambam bites on his bottom lip, attempting to keep in the whimper that threatens to escape.

 

“Been thinking ‘bout your pretty lips,” Jaebum murmurs, thumb reaching to press just beneath his lips. Bambam obediently lets go of his bite and swallows down the noises instead. “Been thinking ‘bout how pretty and pink you get down there when you’re writhing on my cock.”

 

Bambam’s jaw drops, eyes widening in shock. Then, once the filth of his words truly sink in, a part of Bambam wants to curl up and die – he can literally feel the heat rising up his neck and spreading across his entire face in waves that match the thrum of his quaking heartbeat. But for the most part, Bambam can feel his length responding eagerly to the sultry timbre of Jaebum’s voice. And he dares not to look straight into Jaebum’s eyes, knowing all too well of the predacious glint that surely must be in those pitch-black orbs. Jaebum can be straight up sin when he gets in the mood, devilishly handsome with his hollowed cheekbones and furrowed eyebrows. His dominance was always something that turned Bambam on because he quickly found out that he actually _enjoyed_ being manhandled and pushed to a corner – _liked_ the feeling of losing control and rendered helpless to pleasure. Jaebum has always been gentle with him, has always known the right amount of push and pull to rile him up but also never let him forget that he’s being worshipped and adored.

 

But this? This is new. This is tipping the scales. This is something Jaebum has never instigated before.

 

Maybe Bambam should think a little more about the sudden change but oh _hell_ this is the hottest Jaebum has ever been and he’s not even naked yet.

 

“Wanna spread you open, baby…” Jaebum kisses him briefly, leaving Bambam to whine at the short contact and almost lift his torso upwards to chase after him. Now kneeling on his knees over Bambam, Jaebum yanks off his shirt in one smooth motion and digs into his pants, effectively lowering them to fist his thick, hard cock. Bambam nearly stops breathing at the sight of Jaebum’s hand pumping slowly up and down, the tight muscles of his abs clenching with every exhale. “I just wanna get you wet,” he drawls, jaw unhinging and then clenching tight when he plays with the tip with his own thumb.

 

_Oh, fuck_ , Bambam thinks as his own cock throbs. At this point, Bambam would do _anything_ for his hyung. He’d touch and prep himself all for Jaebum to watch if he wanted him to. He’d let Jaebum fuck his mouth until his throat was sore if he wanted to. He’d even get on all fours and let Jaebum slam into his ass until the sun came up if he wanted to.

 

Bambam shivers with want, clenching his thighs as he stares appreciatively at his hyung’s bare form until it becomes too hot to stay in his clothes any longer. He sits up and slides up his top, but wonders if Jaebum would prefer taking his pants off his body himself. His question is answered when Jaebum lets go of his dick to grab onto Bambam’s hips with both hands, and Bambam automatically lifts them off the bed so Jaebum can toss his pants and the rest of their clothes to the floor. Then, feeling bold, Bambam twists onto his stomach and makes a show out of spreading his legs the farthest they can go, ending it all with an arch in his back that puts all of his bottom on display. He looks over his shoulder, completely thrilled to see the wild, uncontained hunger on Jaebum’s face.

 

“Show me what you want, hyung,” he dares. Bambam fights the quiver in his legs as Jaebum looms over him, a hand caressing one of his cheeks and eventually sliding inwards to thumb teasing circles on his dry entrance. Bambam gasps as Jaebum slots them together, rocking them together with smooth rolls of his hips. The slide of his cock between Bambam’s cheeks feels even dirtier than when Jaebum is inside him – because like this…like this, Bambam can feel Jaebum’s entire length against his skin. And the more they grind together, the more precum slicks up his entrance, making him _dream_ about what it would be like when they stop using condoms.

 

Bambam closes his eyes, letting out a pleasured sigh as he thinks about Jaebum coming inside of him and playing with the aftermath of his loose, clenching hole with his fingers.

 

Bambam vaguely hears the moan around his name coming from Jaebum, but it doesn’t really register that Jaebum has actually been talking to him in between their rutting. Jaebum must’ve been frustrated enough to have flipped him over so suddenly the way he did because within a brief blur, Bambam is on his back again, staring up at Jaebum who’s breathing heavily above him.

 

“Where do you keep your lube?” Jaebum asks quietly.

 

Ah. Bambam wordlessly reaches over to pull on the first drawer of his nightstand, pulling out the requested bottle and a random handful of condoms he thankfully just bought. Jaebum lets out a pleased hum, busying himself by coating his fingers with the lube while Bambam takes the opportunity to brush his sweaty hair back and kiss along his neck. After Bambam is satisfied with his artwork, Jaebum meets him for a heated kiss, tongues sliding around expertly with repeated practice. Jaebum is just – _so good_ , Bambam thinks as he lets out a muffled moan. He knows exactly what Bambam likes, what makes Bambam thrust uncontrollably upwards to seek friction on his leaking cock.

 

Bambam offers no resistance when Jaebum hooks one of his legs onto his arm, giving way to a slick finger to circle around Bambam’s entrance. He’s panting for air when Jaebum finally breaks their sloppy kiss. Then, his head is thrown back, mouth open and glistening as Jaebum pushes his finger in and immediately starts moving it in and out of him.

 

“ _So pretty_ ,” Jaebum says breathily. “Just _look_ at you, baby.” He curls his finger inside Bambam, transfixed at the pink heat. “You’re so tight, so wet,” he glances at Bambam’s aching hardness, gets the carnal desire to suck on it harshly. He doesn’t wait too long to add in a second finger, and with this, Jaebum starts to really speed up. Bambam whines at the stimulation and throws his arms around Jaebum’s head to hide his face in the crook of his neck, blushing. But, this means that Jaebum is even closer and able to whisper directly into his ear.

 

“You’re a fucking _dream_ , Bambam. Hyung wants to fuck you so bad.”

 

“ _Oh hyung_.” Bambam clenches around Jaebum’s fingers involuntarily, and he’s nearly going crazy with the need to touch himself. “Fuck me, _please._ I’m all _yours_.” His words seem to affect Jaebum greatly, because he pauses in fingering Bambam open and Bambam can feel his back muscles flex with how deeply he’s inhaling. Bambam spreads his hand over them appreciatively – Jaebum’s always had a nice, solid back.

 

“All mine?”

 

Bambam pulls back enough to nod, pressing a sweet kiss on Jaebum’s lips.

 

“ _All mine_ ,” Jaebum nearly growls, diving in for a hard, wild kiss. Oh, that’ll definitely bruise tomorrow. Jaebum stretches him with a third finger then, and Bambam moans at the wet sound of lube squelching against him. For the nth time that night, Jaebum turns him so he’s on his knees and guides both of his hands to clutch onto the headboard of the bed. “You’ll need it,” is all he says while licking at the sensitive spot on his nape, immediately sending a sharp jolt down his spine. Bambam arches his back more as a result, which has Jaebum smirking as he takes in the pretty picture before him.

 

Jaebum’s fingers push and swirl around Bambam’s prostate until he starts crying Jaebum’s name. And Jaebum’s right – Bambam is so glad to have the headboard as support because his legs are absolutely useless right now. There’s so much precum leaking down his shaft it’s unbelievable. Right after Jaebum has put the condom on and spread a copious amount of lube on his cock, Bambam lets go of one hand in hopes of being able to jack off while Jaebum fucks him from behind. But Jaebum catches his hand and places it right back where it was on the headboard.

 

“No, no,” he clicks his tongue – “All you need is me. You’re coming untouched.”

 

Bambam doesn’t have time to protest – because Jaebum pushes his length in in one go and knocks the breath out of him, leaving him to grip so hard on the bed his hands turn white. Jaebum still gives him time to adjust, but it’s not like the usual, where he stays completely still until Bambam gives him the “okay” to move. No, Jaebum is already thrusting shallowly into him, groaning in pleasure as he relishes in Bambam’s hot suction.

 

“ _God_ ,” Jaebum sighs, watching his cock slip in and out. He grips one of Bambam’s cheeks, fondling as he pulls it aside to get a better view of the stretched, pink rim.

 

Bambam has his eyes sewn shut in pleasure, mouth falling open as Jaebum’s thrusts gradually get deeper and harder. He feels so full, so good, and he can’t help the way his hips are snapping to get even more of Jaebum in him. His cock is pulsing as it bounces towards his stomach, and really, though Bambam had his doubts, he really thinks he could come untouched if he keeps this up. Jaebum’s thickness always gets to him; the three fingers are never quite enough for the initial stretch.

 

The little wilted “ _ah_ ’s” and “ _Jaebum_ ’s” coming from Bambam increase in volume as Jaebum pistons into him faster and faster, skin smacking against skin in wet slaps.

 

“You’re beautiful,” Jaebum gasps, gaining enough of Bambam’s attention to open his eyes. He shifts their positions a little bit, so that Bambam can lean his head back on his shoulder and loosen his death grip on the headboard. Bambam smiles at him, both at the compliment and the consideration. His red hair sticks to the sweaty parts of his temple and his hazy eyes contain only Jaebum in their reflection. The sight of him has Jaebum’s heart clenching painfully, an overwhelming amount of heat and tenderness coursing through every fiber of his being. He brings their foreheads together, both of them closing their eyes and just sharing the same air. Jaebum stops his thrusts for a moment to savor the feeling of holding Bambam in his arms, ignoring the whines that follow because Bambam is so _close_ and he only needs a little more to enter completion.

 

“ _Hyung_ , please –!” Bambam’s begging is cut off by a sharp cry as Jaebum pulls out completely and slams right back into him, the force of the penetration so hard it makes Bambam lose all of his remaining strength. He falls over flat on the bed, panting heavily, and Jaebum follows him down to continue his brutal pace. Jaebum grabs the back of his knee and folds his leg upwards, and the new angle results in the tip of Jaebum’s cock pressing onto his prostate with every thrust.

 

Jaebum desperately tries to hold back his groans, but they come out as irregular, choked grunts anyway. Bambam on the other hand, isn’t even holding back, wanton moans so loud it feels like the whole neighborhood can hear them. Eventually, Jaebum has to sneak his hand around Bambam’s head to shove two fingers into his mouth to silence him, all while mouthing along his nape. It’s somewhat of an attempt to keep quiet – but really, the bigger concern should be the creaking of the springs on Bambam’s small, old mattress, and the thumps of the headboard against the thin wall.

 

_“Fuck_ ,” Jaebum bites into his skin as Bambam licks around and between his digits, sucking on them earnestly and messily. “Oh baby,” he sighs, face twisting in pleasure as he watches Bambam lewdly tonguing his fingers all while taking his cock so well. Bambam mewls in response – he’s always loved when Jaebum called him baby. “My beautiful baby…”

 

And that’s it – that’s the push he needed to come all over the bed in white-hot ropes, body convulsing from head to toe by its sheer intensity. He comes long and hard, probably built up from all that tension and the denial to touch. Bambam can only scream in silence, drooling down Jaebum’s fingers, which are still lodged deep in his mouth, and helplessly take everything Jaebum has to give him. His ass naturally clenches down around Jaebum during his orgasm, making the drag along his walls and the sensitivity on his prostate even harsher. For a short, yet also terribly long minute, Jaebum chases after release too, having lost his mind after watching _and_ feeling Bambam spill open for him like a flower.

 

Bambam is just so red, so pretty. His cheeks and ears are flushed in a horizontal gradient and the sweat that glistens on his skin makes him glow in the moonlight. Jaebum’s marks scattered all over his neck, his nape, look like fallen flower petals. Jaebum has never seen anyone more beautiful. And even as he finally comes, he still wants Bambam. He just – wants him. Wanting what, Jaebum has no idea, but it’s just this raw ache that has been eating away at him for weeks, maybe even months now. It can be sated whenever they’re close, but never quite completely quenched. Does Bambam feel the same way? Most likely not.

 

A hand to his cheek brings Jaebum back to reality, eyes refocusing with clarity. Bambam then wipes the sweat away from his forehead and combs his raven hair back. Jaebum realizes with a start that he hasn’t pulled out yet – Bambam must be feeling uncomfortable.

 

“Oh,” Bambam says quietly when Jaebum disconnects them.

 

“You okay?” Jaebum massages his legs. Bambam nods, but he continues to worry anyway. “I didn’t go too hard on you, did I?”

 

Bambam laughs a little. “No, it was hot,” he admits with a shy smile. “Didn’t know you thought of me like that.”

 

“Uh…” Jaebum purses his lips, feeling a bit of shame creep up on him.

 

“Just when you think you really know a person…” Bambam teases. “Now I can’t be too sure if you really mean it when you call me pretty or if you actually just wanna bang me against the wall.”

 

“I _always_ mean it,” Jaebum defends himself, although his voice trails out as he considers the second option.

 

Seeing right through him, Bambam shoves his shoulder with a laugh and grabs his blanket to roll into. “Horny old man.”

 

“I’m not _old_ , just old _er_.”

 

Bambam peeps out above the blanket with happy, starry eyes, his hair a tangled mess on the pillow. He pops out to kiss Jaebum’s cheek quickly and then pops right back in. “Sure.”

 

The pang twists within Jaebum again and slowly, slowly, he realizes.

 

-

 

(He’s in love.)

 

-

 

Morning comes and there’s no way they’ve gotten more than two or three hours of sleep because the sun is barely seeping into Bambam’s curtains, and Bambam knows for a fact that an annoying band of light lands right on his eyes at seven o’clock. Still, Jaebum sits up out of habit anyway and by association, Bambam wakes up too. Their eyes sting. Bambam’s had a long day and an equally long night. But now that he’s awake, he can feel how disgusting his bed is. Neither of them cleaned up right away, so all of the evidence of their sleepless night is still right where they left it – Bambam stares at the dried patch of come incriminatingly under his hand. Great. He’ll have to do his own laundry for once.

 

“Morning,” Jaebum greets him with a soft kiss, which actually really brightens up his day. Bambam hasn’t had that in a while, since Jaebum goes to work so early. It’s a Saturday, so maybe he can have Jaebum all to himself now.

 

“Good morning,” Bambam yawns and lazily stretches, reaching over for a hug. Jaebum accepts him easily, arms tight around his small waist, more kisses pressed to his hair.

 

“Do you want to get up yet?” Jaebum knows it’s early, and he feels bad for disrupting his sleep.

 

Bambam sighs, “Sure, why not.”

 

Jaebum ends up carrying Bambam into the shower, where he spends more time pampering him than taking care of himself. Everything was nice until Bambam decided that now was a good time to suck on Jaebum’s dick, right under the stream of hot water.

 

“ _Bambam_ ,” Jaebum hisses, but does nothing to stop him from getting on his knees. “Aren’t you tired?”

 

“Sucking on your fingers just wasn’t the same,” Bambam frowns petulantly, looking up at Jaebum through wet lashes. “I wanted something bigger, hyung.” And then he flattens his tongue and licks up the underside of his cock. Needless to say, Jaebum didn’t have any problem growing into full hardness, already too weak for Bambam to begin with.

 

Jaebum is breathing heavily under the shower, rocking gently with Bambam’s hot mouth when suddenly the door handle to the bathroom rattles vigorously.

 

A muffled voice can be heard. “You locked the bathroom? Bambam how could you!”

 

Both of them stop in their tracks, turning their heads at the door. Then, they look at each other and Bambam merely shrugs, getting right back to engulfing Jaebum into his mouth. Although a little uncomfortable at the thought of Yugyeom being right outside, Jaebum goes with the flow anyway, humming encouragingly at Bambam sucking on his tip.

 

“You’re so good, baby,” he praises Bambam quietly. It’s true. Bambam is getting ridiculously good at this, ever since the first time he tried.

 

“I need to pee!”

 

The handle rattles again.

 

Bambam pulls off and glares at the door, shouting. “Go away! I’m showering!”

 

“You _never_ lock the door! It’s part of the bro code! C’mon I drank so much water last night!”

 

“Five minutes!” Bambam offers. Jaebum has already resigned, sadly replacing Bambam’s sweet mouth with his hand.

 

“No, just unlock the door!”

 

“ _Goddamn it, Yugyeom_ , I’m _sucking dick_ – go piss on a tree or something!”

 

Jaebum widens his eyes, and the handle stops rattling. Both of them wait for a long while, the only sound being the water that continues to rain on them. Then, Jaebum bursts into loud laughter while Bambam clamps a hand over his face, also snickering behind it. There’s no question that Yugyeom probably ran off somewhere, horrified and shook. By the time they stop giggling over it, Bambam is no longer in the mood to continue but Jaebum is still hard. So, they settle for a quick hand job instead, Bambam’s hand clasping over Jaebum’s as they both pump him together, making out languidly against the shower stall.

 

“You’re both disgusting!” Yugyeom yells at them as he scampers into the bathroom once they unlock the door.

 

Bambam only smirks while Yugyeom glares at him through the closing gap, having successfully shoved them out. Bambam promises to make breakfast or whatever, so Yugyeom can only half-heartedly grumble at the unpleasant start of his day thus far. He’s just grateful for a home-cooked meal; who knows where he’d be without Bambam to look after his eating habits? Yugyeom can only hope that they’re not out there defiling the kitchen while he’s washing up.

 

He’s praying for the good of his eyeballs when he is finally ready to step out of the hallway, stomping loudly on purpose to make his presence clear.

 

Surprisingly, the scene before him is simply…domestic. There are sounds of chopsticks hitting the bottom of a ceramic bowl, whisking up eggs, and a knife slicing onions on the wooden cutting board.

 

“Hey,” Jaebum acknowledges Yugyeom’s presence with an awkward smile and a cough. Yugyeom appreciates that there is some semblance of shame in this house.

 

“Not done yet,” Bambam simply says, not even bothering to look at him as he continues beating away the eggs.

 

Yugyeom slinks into the living room with his phone, but still ends up staring at the pair behind the couch out of curiosity, where the kitchen is still visible. Jaebum and Bambam are preparing breakfast quietly five feet apart and the only time they even talk is when Jaebum presumably asks where they keep the soy sauce. Yugyeom is about to turn away out of boredom when he sees it – Jaebum’s head tilting upwards to steal a glance at Bambam, quickly looking down when Bambam does the same. Both of them bite down a grin and stir into busier work.

 

Yugyeom sinks down the couch, embarrassed. He feels like he was intruding.

 

-

 

Bambam clicks ‘send’ after reading over his email once, checking for grammatical errors to his best ability. It’s been a long time since he’s had to use English, so now he feels rusty and insecure. Ever since the fashion show, his social media and professional inbox has been going through a boom. On the first day after the show, he gained nearly a thousand followers on instagram and that, to him, was already amazing enough. But more and more came after that, and now he’s sitting at a solid 50k out of nowhere. He found out later that a clip of Lisa walking down the runway in his final gown went viral on twitter, and both of their accounts were linked below. Since Bambam had no need for all his dresses – it’s not like he can just go grocery shopping in them – he decided to auction them off, like he usually did with his earlier collections when no one else in his group of friends wanted them, for extra cash. What he didn’t account for was the overwhelming response on every single piece, and now he’s stuck with sorting through all inquires and offers and then shipping them all across the globe. He did let Lisa keep the red gown though, since she seemed so in love with it and Bambam knew she would take great care of it. He only recently finished dividing his prize money to pay his models, too. And on top of all of that, multiple brands have expressed their interest in him and even implied job openings. It’s crazy.

 

“87MM! Didn’t they reject you last year?” Jimin exclaimed over the phone when she heard the news.

 

They did.

 

But Bambam is confused why they would be interested in him and his portfolio _now_ when he’s clearly done a complete 180 from menswear. In any case, Bambam had to respectfully decline, because it’s no longer in his interest to work with them anymore. He can imagine his style clashing real quick with the brand if he were to work there. And honestly, it’s starting to happen here at pushBUTTON too, with Bambam silently disagreeing with what gets approval from his boss, but he likes the work environment enough to stay. Besides, how can he leave Hani to sit with Nana all alone now? They’ve been comrades for too long for Bambam to just hand it over to some intern.

 

Jaebum, on the other hand, thinks he should use this opportunity to move onto bigger, better things.

 

“I’m so _proud_ of you,” he’d said while squishing his cheeks with both hands, his toothy grin so wide it made his eyes disappear.

 

Bambam didn’t have the heart to inform him that “bigger, better things” were in Paris, in Milan.

 

“Kid.”

 

Bambam jumps in his seat, freaking out as he hurriedly switches to a different tab on the computer and swirling on his chair to smile at Nana. “Hey! Noona!” That sounded too cheerful.

 

She looks at him, unamused. “Do we pay you to work, or do we pay you to scroll down instagram?”

 

Bambam turns to look at his screen. Fuck. Wrong tab. “I was just checking out our official account, you know, reading the comments on the new stuff. We should listen to customer feedback every once in a while.”

 

Nana actually cranks a smile, and Bambam beams right back, knowing she bought none of that bullshit. Maybe he shouldn’t have declined the job offers.

 

“Right. And those?” She points to his sketchbook on full display, filled with carefully drawn bodices in different angles. Their brand doesn’t do dresses that fancy.

 

“Well.”

 

“I get it. You want to do something else.” Nana pulls both of her hands out of the pockets of her cigarette pants, crossing her arms over her black and white kimono instead. “As long as you get your work done, I don’t care.”

 

“No, no,” Bambam denies, shaking his head. “I like it here. Also, thank you for the flowers at my show, noona. I never got to thank you.”

 

Nana just smiles mysteriously at him, and beckons him to follow her with a curl of a finger. In the end, Nana only made him sort out the inventory for a photo-shoot next week and left him to wonder about the reason behind her smile. While busying himself over the task, Bambam eventually forgets about it in favor of other exciting things – like Jaebum picking him up for dinner tonight. Although they had already celebrated Bambam’s achievement the day Jaebum came back, they did everything Bambam’s way, which included strolling through the fish market for street food even though they just had breakfast with Yugyeom and walking along the beach until the sunset. Apparently that wasn’t enough for Jaebum, who insisted on taking him out to a fancy candlelit dinner soon. (Alright, Jaebum didn’t mention any candles, but Bambam needs to be prepared for the _worst_ , aka be slapped in the face with money. That, he can’t help, but at least he can dress up and look good.)

 

Bambam swings the blazer hanging on his chair over his shoulders when it’s time to clock out for the day, grabbing his belongings and waving to his coworkers on the way out. He only waits roughly five minutes before Jaebum parallel parks with his Bugatti in one swift motion in front of the office. Bambam rushes to get in, wanting as little time in the public eye as possible – he’ll never get used to all the attention.

 

And despite dating Jaebum for a while now, Bambam is reminded of how much he doesn’t know about the upscale part of Seoul, struggling to keep his face neutral as they enter an Italian restaurant in a 5-star hotel. Before they get their appetizers, Bambam digs into the inside of his blazer and pulls out an envelope. Might as well get it over with now.

 

“I have something for you,” Bambam declares proudly, sliding it over the table.

 

Jaebum looks at him questioningly. He opens it, pulling out a check for three million won. “Bam – no, keep it.”

 

“No,” Bambam puts his hand down on the envelope, stopping it from coming back to him at the middle of the table. “I owe you, remember? I mean, sure, that’s less than a third but,” he shrugs, “I saved up.”

 

“It’s okay, I don’t need it. I make this amount in less than a day,” Jaebum says.

 

Ouch. But Bambam gets his point. “I know you don’t need it, but I want you to have it anyway. It’s a matter of pride, hyung.”

 

Jaebum still looks reluctant.

 

“Please? It’s a token of my hard work.”

 

There’s a bit of silence, where Jaebum seems to be considering it. Bambam stares at him expectedly, willing for him to accept it and make it easy for both of them. Jaebum looks at him, and sighs.

 

“Okay.”

 

Bambam grins, looking strangely happy for someone who just had half of their bank account emptied.

 

“Now that I have the funds, I guess we’ll just blow it all tonight to celebrate, then.” Jaebum smirks, requesting for the sommelier.

 

“Wait. Wait, what?” Bambam’s eyes widen in horror and confusion as Jaebum orders two special glasses of wine, something in Italian that Bambam can’t repeat without sounding stupid. Giacomo Conterno something something. Jaebum doesn’t answer him, so Bambam watches anxiously as the sommelier walks towards the cellar stacked with expensive wines, and _picks off the one with the fanciest display_. “Oh. God.”

 

“Trust me, it’s a good one. Made in 1997.”

 

“Hyung, _I_ was made in 1997,” Bambam squeaks.

 

Jaebum laughs, lifting the glass for a toast when both of them have been served. “To hard work.”

 

“Down the drain,” Bambam murmurs, sipping the red wine with distaste.

 

Jaebum smiles above the glass, wondering what kind of commotion Bambam will cause after he brings out the Niwaka earrings.

 

Not a good one, of course, as evidently made later on by his dramatic gasp, his panic after knocking over the remainder of his million won wine. Bambam whines and pouts about the incident the entire ride home, which Jaebum is happy to kiss away.

 

-

 

By midsummer, Bambam is done with his third year of school and simply working full time to save up for the next year. Due to Bambam’s increased work hours, Yugyeom also took on more hours at the dance studio to combat the boredom. Most of their friends are back in their hometowns now, so they don’t see each other too often. Jackson has flown back to Hong Kong too, and probably won’t be in Korea for at least another month. Bambam is watching his subbed variety shows though, and it feels like he’s still here because of how often Bambam screenshots Jackson at unfortunate moments and texts them to him.

 

As for Jaebum, he’s been flying back and forth between Seoul and Tokyo for the past two months, looking more and more tired each time he comes back. At one point, Bambam realized that he was only coming back for _him_ , which he should’ve figured out sooner because why else would Jaebum take a plane just to stay for one day? It didn’t make sense. So Bambam told him not to strain himself any further by travelling so much when he didn’t need to – it was really taking a toll on his health and it _showed_. Bambam felt awful seeing his hyung like this, so he bit down on his lip and started smiling at Jaebum through the screen instead, no matter how much he missed having Jaebum next to him.

 

Bambam has been trying his best to remind Jaebum to take care of himself just to receive a call one day that Jaebum caught a nasty summer cold and is now bed-ridden so “come take care of me.”

 

Bambam rolls his eyes as he pushes the buttons on the elevator with his elbow, grocery bags in both hands and a croissant in his mouth. The staff there are used to his appearances by now, so no one tries to stop him even though they know he’s not a resident. Jaebum might have something to do with that, but Bambam’s never thought to ask. Anyway, what is Jaebum? A man-child? Getting a cold in the summer?

 

_What a loser_ , Bambam snorts. He’ll tell that to Jaebum’s face later too, once he cooks some chicken porridge for him. Jaebum will be too weak to retaliate – it’ll be perfect.

 

Bambam punches in the passcode and presses his finger on the detector, waiting for the beep and complicated sound of the door unlocking. Bambam invites himself inside, closing the door behind him and smiling at Nora running to greet him through his croissant. He puts down the grocery bags, one hand ready to pet her and the other reaching up to grab the pastry out of his mouth.

 

“How did you get in?” An accusatory voice thunders.

 

Bambam stumbles forward. He almost dropped his croissant. When he looks up, Jinyoung is staring right into his soul, arms crossed.

 

“…Through the door.” Bambam deadpans.

 

Jinyoung narrows his eyes. “He registered your fingerprint?” He utters in disbelief.

 

Bambam rises to full height, looking back at Jinyoung. “I know, right? Me, of all people.”

 

The two men fall into silence. Interesting.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW! /gets on my knees. I KNOW! IT'S BEEN TOO LONG I KNOW! ;n; All I can say is sorry. My excuse is always school but I'm sure everyone is sick of me saying that by now.
> 
> anyway it might not seem like it but I SNAPPED. I've been trying so damn hard this entire fic so far NOT to say the word "love" but I crumbled and now I did it and I'm /stares at the wall, ruined. Believe it or not, it really matters to me LOLL. sigh. on the other hand aslkdsglhASLKGHLAS ain't that just exciting?? we have confirmation on one side! ...sorta. 
> 
> also, it's!!! the one year anniversary of baby I'm sweet on you! aaaAAAAHHHH. ((((fml how did I let it run for so long)))) thank you so so so SO much for reading and waiting for such a long time ;n; I appreciate every reader, truly! much love! 
> 
> @tremmy_chii on twitter, very lonely and happy to make friends yes yes. although it's mostly just me rt-ing bambam and crying about his military drawing and how much I love him :((


	11. tell the truth, tell your secret

 

 

 

“Jaebum hyung likes it thick.”

 

Bambam halts from pouring the water into the pot for a split second, surprised that Jinyoung is even talking to him. But his eyes twitch at the sight of Jinyoung hovering by his side, one corner of his lips turned upwards. Bambam wonders if taking any personal offense to this seemingly innocent statement would mean losing a point to whatever scoreboard they’re hanging up right now. At this thought, Bambam schools his face and continues to pour the rest of the water in.

 

“I know,” Bambam says coolly. A few drops splatter onto Jinyoung’s arm as it hits the surface of the pot too hard. Jinyoung wipes the wetness away with a hint of a frown. “You’re a bit too close,” Bambam says instead of apologizing.

 

Jinyoung does take a step back, but that doesn’t really solve the root of the problem here. Bambam would rather Jinyoung be in an entirely different room to begin with.

 

“It looks like you put too much.”

 

“I didn’t.”

 

And later, when Bambam rips open the packaging of the raw chicken and rinses it under the tap: “Did you wash your hands?” Jinyoung asked, knowing full well that he hadn’t, at least not yet. Bambam holds back the eye roll and wordlessly reaches for the soap, if only to shut the other man up. There’s really no point in doing it now – he still has to handle it on the cutting board anyway and that means he’ll have to wash his hands a second time.

 

Right as Bambam pulls out a peeler from a drawer and reaches into the grocery bag for a fresh ginger root, Jinyoung stops him _again_.

 

“He doesn’t _like_ ginger,” Jinyoung folds his arms, tone critical as if Bambam made some sort of grave mistake just for presumably not knowing what Jaebum does or doesn’t like in his porridge.

 

And quite frankly, all these short, snide remarks? They’re getting under Bambam’s skin. He can feel the irritation building up, and just the fact that he can feel how affected he is by this petty little game they’re playing pushes him _that_ much more towards the edge. He can tell that Jinyoung is doing this on purpose – Bambam can’t imagine Jaebum being fond – or, god forbid, _best friends_ with someone as aggravating as this.

 

Anyway, “I know that,” Bambam says slowly. Jinyoung narrows his eyes in the slightest bit; if there were a patronizing tone to be heard, Jinyoung would be the first one to know. He’s the master of it, after all. “Just because he doesn’t like it doesn’t mean it’s not good for him. I doubt he can taste anything with that cold anyway.”

 

“But –!”

 

“ _But,_ ” Bambam interrupts, “since you seem to know his preferences so well, why don’t you do it?” He maintains eye contact as he places his knife back on the cutting board and slides the entire thing towards Jinyoung. It’s a challenge. The kitchen is _his_ territory (and Jaebum’s and Nora’s). Bambam is confident with his cooking, especially after doing it so often while waiting for Jaebum to come home from work.

 

Bambam expected some form of haughty acceptance from Jinyoung, so he can only blink in surprise and deflate a little when Jinyoung seems bewildered by the unfinished ingredients being passed onto him. He looks uncomfortable even – like he was put on the spot. It makes Bambam wonder if he was being too presumptuous about the entire situation, wonder if he was taking every word the wrong way. (But can anyone blame him? Bambam never got an apology for _that_ even though it happened months ago.) Then, he can only watch in curiosity as Jinyoung straightens up and picks up the knife, clearing his throat.

 

“Fine.”

 

“Fine,” Bambam repeats hesitantly after him and nods. He glances down at Jinyoung’s weird grip, but doesn’t say anything about it. Jinyoung also suddenly seems to be determined to not look at him. “Can you finish chopping the onions?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Cool.”

 

It’s quiet as Bambam turns on the stove and heats up the oil in the pan. He figures that Jaebum might want a side dish to change up his palate, even if only for the texture. Nora chooses the moment he starts sautéing minced garlic to slink between his feet and hop onto the empty counter next to him, leaning forwards and sniffing the air. Bambam lets her stay there, of course – she’s learned to not be a bother a long time ago. He belatedly feels Jinyoung’s stare on his back and realizes how strange and dangerous it must look to allow a cat so close to the stove. So reluctantly, Bambam picks her up and placates her protests with heavy petting as he sets her down on the floor.

 

Several minutes later, Bambam notices he’s the only one making noise from moving around in the kitchen – so Jinyoung must be done, then. Why didn’t he say anything?

 

“Hey –!” Bambam stops mid-sentence, dumbfounded by the sight of Jinyoung attempting to saw an onion into fat chunks while locking his jaw as if it would constrain his tears. There hasn’t been much progress on the cutting board since Bambam slid it over – in fact, Bambam’s already itching to just take over and do it himself. Looking at the amateur cuts and the awkward way Jinyoung is holding the knife, Bambam realizes with a start that Jinyoung has probably _never_ been in the kitchen before. As in, interacting with anything other than the fridge, probably.

 

 _My god_ , Bambam thinks exasperatedly. If he didn’t know how to cook, least of all, _how to cut an onion_ , why didn’t he just ask?

 

Bambam studies Jinyoung with furrowed brows for a few more seconds before silently sighing. Jinyoung was probably too prideful to admit that he didn’t know how to do something; especially not in front of someone he’s been trying to assert his upper hand on. From what Jaebum has offhandedly revealed to him before, Bambam knows that Jinyoung still lives with his parents in a multi-billion won mansion. It would make sense for him to never need to step into the kitchen with personal chefs to cater to his every craving.

 

“Hey,” Bambam tries calling out again, although this time to form an entirely different sentence. “Do you need help?”

 

“No,” Jinyoung replies, overly casual. Both of them jump as Jinyoung just barely misses slicing off the tip of his finger. His ears turn red immediately – he knows that Bambam _definitely_ saw that.

 

Bambam shuffles over with a frantic expression, and Jinyoung braces himself for the inevitable laughter. It’ll be humiliating, but it can’t be helped.

 

“Uh…” Bambam sways this way and that with his hands, looking like the fool Jinyoung feels like on the inside. “It’s better if you – uhm – like _this_.” Bambam adjusts the way Jinyoung is holding the knife and lays a hand on top of Jinyoung’s on the cutting board. Jinyoung widens his eyes, staring straight at Bambam instead of paying attention to the way Bambam is fixing how he is holding onto the onion.

 

“Do you watch that angry British chef? The ‘idiot sandwich’ one?” Bambam snickers. “Well, he taught me that you should have three fingers in front, two in the back.”

 

Jinyoung looks down.

 

“Yeah. Like that.” Bambam steps back. “I like to cut away from myself in one motion.” He demonstrates on thin air.

 

Jinyoung mimics the motion, and the knife slices through the onion with ease. The pieces look much better, a stark contrast from his first attempt. Huh. He tries it again, and for some reason he’s surprised that it works, that it might even be considered uniform. After Jinyoung gets a rhythm going, he finds that prepping isn’t that hard. Sure, he’s slow, but speed is just something that comes with practice.

 

When Jinyoung finishes the task, he sets the knife down and stares at the translucent pile of sliced onions. He looks up and finds Bambam silently stirring the pot of porridge with a ladle, one hand on his hip. The thick porridge boils slowly, and Bambam is diligently scraping the bottom while it cooks so that it won’t burn at the bottom of the stainless steel. He’s already seasoned everything, and Jinyoung can see all the toppings like the green onions and ginger sitting neatly in separate bowls on the island. The side dish is done and is just sitting on low heat to keep warm. Even the dirty utensils and dishes are already in the sink.

 

Bambam…well…he looks good, Jinyoung will have to admit. He looks mature and put-together – nothing like the kid he expected him to be at all. He looks like he’s at home, and Jinyoung wonders if this snapshot is just a glimpse of what makes Jaebum so eager to end a day at the office.

 

Bambam catches him staring and noticeably gets weirded out, but Jinyoung is too deep into his thoughts to bother breaking the eye contact.

 

“Oh,” Bambam coughs awkwardly. “Are you done?” Jinyoung lets him reach his own answer. “…Could you just…drop them in there?” He points to the pan of assorted vegetables.

 

Jinyoung does as he’s instructed. Bambam informs him that they’re pretty much done here, but he’s going to leave the heat on for a bit longer because the rice hasn’t bloated up as much as he’d like it yet. Bambam turns on the tap and begins washing the dishes while Jinyoung stands behind the island, aware of his unneeded presence but not necessarily ready to leave. Suddenly, he realizes Bambam hadn’t laughed at him – hadn’t even made some smart remark about his incompetence in the kitchen yet having the audacity to try and give Bambam a hard time.

 

The kindness – Jinyoung doesn’t appreciate how it makes his insides cave in on itself. He feels sick.

 

“Jaebum hyung’s still sleeping, right?” Bambam begins, back facing Jinyoung as he rinses a bowl. “I’ll go wake him up after this.”

 

“No, let him rest.”

 

“It’s midday. He hasn’t eaten anything yet, from what I know.”

 

“He’ll eat when he gets up.”

 

A beat of silence. “…Fine.”

 

By the time Bambam finishes with the dishes, the porridge reaches satisfaction. The moment Bambam turns off the stove, Jinyoung’s voice cuts through the air and the sound is sharper than any knife he could wield.

 

“You should leave.”

 

Any courtesy or sympathy Bambam could’ve had flies out the window in an instant and the frustration that he had managed to simmer down before comes back in full force. “ _What the fuck?_ ” He slaps the hand towel down onto the counter. “Why?”

 

“Only one person is needed to take care of him; I’m just trying not to waste your time.” Jinyoung explains calmly, unfazed by the apparent anger rising on Bambam’s face. There’s something deliberate about his speech, some underlying aggressiveness that manages to sound extremely condescending while still being deceptively polite on the surface. And it’s just so fucking unfair. Bambam doesn’t deserve to be treated like this at all – he’s done _nothing_ wrong.

 

“And out of the two of us, _I_ need to leave?” Bambam looks at him in disbelief. He scoffs. “Jaebum hyung asked me to be here, you know.”

 

Jinyoung frowns slightly – “ _I_ don’t have to be asked to be there for him.”

 

Bambam refuses to let his jaw drop at the blatant reversal of his words. He really wants to punch something. Perhaps he really will leave, just because he can’t _stand_ the thought of having to share the same space as this asshole. Bambam pauses to inhale deeply. “I don’t get your problem with me. I don’t know anything about the kind of people Jaebum has been with in the past, what you think of them, or how you think I might be like them. But let me get this clear – I’m serious about Jaebum and I’m doing my best to catch up to him as his equal. You can’t fault me for being born too early. And most importantly…” Bambam narrows his eyes. “Mind your _fucking business_.”

 

Jinyoung loses his mask then, glaring viciously at Bambam as Bambam knocks into his shoulder on the way out of the kitchen.

 

“ _Excuse you?_ You’re right. You have _no idea_ what Jaebum has gone through to get to where he is now. I’m looking out for him because I care for him! _I_ know him best!”

 

“Okay? What do you want – a congratulations, a thank you?? None of that excuses your god-awful attitude towards me from the _first_ impression. You may be his best friend but you have _no_ right to go around policing who he is or isn’t with.” Jaebum is literally _29_. He can make his own damn decisions.

 

Bambam is reminded of when he and his friends first fought over the discovery of their relationship. The thought of that fuels his anger even more because it seems to be a universal thing for everybody to stick their two cents into a relationship that doesn’t even concern them. But at least his friends didn’t hound on Jaebum like he was a demon to eradicate.

 

Nora rises up from the cat stand in the living room, confused by the sudden commotion.

 

Before Jinyoung can get a word in, Bambam grabs his phone and tugs on his shoes by the entrance. “Look, we don’t _have_ to like each other. But maybe we should only come to that conclusion _after_ you’ve put down your prejudices against me and actually get to know me better.” He swings the door open. “Anyway, I’m leaving. Make sure he eats everything,” Bambam mumbles the last sentence.

 

“Wait.” Jinyoung grabs the edge of the door just as Bambam steps out to make his leave. “Aren’t you going to tell him what happened at the gala? You’ve got the upper hand, you know. You could win.”

 

“Win what?” Bambam utters breathlessly, extremely confused. “Do you plan to make him choose between us or something?” He asks before his mind can catch up to the weight of the question. When it does, his stomach flips over grossly. Bambam bites down grimly. If Jinyoung does intend to hurt Jaebum in that way…maybe _Jinyoung_ is the one Jaebum has to be watching out for. “ _Do you really_?”

 

“What – _no_! Who do you think I am?” Jinyoung would _never_ hurt Jaebum.

 

“I don’t think anything of you. Because I don’t know you.” Well, that’s an obvious lie, even to the person who just said it. Bambam clearly thinks Jinyoung is a stuck-up and infuriatingly judgmental asshole. “I’ve got to go. Bye.” He almost can’t resist the urge to flip his middle finger up at Jinyoung as the door closes. He satisfies his inner desires by doing it anyway – although only after the door separates them and Bambam is alone in the empty hallway. He mouths all the curses he wants and punches the air before stomping away, his mood at the foulest it’s ever been since birth. God. Bambam didn’t think he had it in him to be this angry with any one person in his life in such a short amount of time. He’s always considered himself to be an easy-going person who abhors confrontation.

 

Inside the condo, Jinyoung rolls his eyes. There’s a camera on the door that can be monitored with a push of a button. After he watches Bambam mouth profanities at him and leave the frame of the screen, he marches back into the kitchen and whips open a cooler for a water bottle. Jinyoung chugs down the entire thing and crushes the plastic in his hand with a satisfying crunch, unleashing his anger by throwing it harshly at the recycling bin.

 

The entire exchange, albeit short, really pulled on a few sensitive strings. Mostly because a tiny but crystal clear part of Jinyoung admits that Bambam might be right. Emphasize _might_. He’s only been looking out for Jaebum – it wasn’t easy for Jaebum to transition from the music scene to a cutthroat corporate world all of a sudden. Nobody believed in his potential – and yet the moment he began to find his footing as the rightful heir to the financial group, _everyone_ wanted to grab onto a piece of him for themselves. This meant that every handshake, every “hello” hid an ulterior motive uglier than the last. Jinyoung has seen every scheme there is, from the most cliché to the most creative.

 

And when Jinyoung first saw him – at the _club_ , no less – Bambam fit right in between every scenario he had already dealt with. It was supposed to be quick. He knew the pattern: Jaebum would sometimes get drunk, find a warm body to lie next to, and then wake up to nurse the headache that isn’t from the alcohol. They’re normally after nothing else but money, maybe sometimes a bigger share of stocks if it’s a businessman’s pretty daughter. Jaebum doesn’t have time for a relationship – wasn’t even looking for one, as far as Jinyoung knew. And Jinyoung was willing to do all the dirty work behind the scenes; he had promised himself that if there were any way to repent for what he’s done, it would be to be by Jaebum’s side no matter what. He would protect him – selflessly, unconditionally.

 

But then Bambam turned out to be nothing like what he thought. He wasn’t after the money, and he made Jaebum’s eyes light up like the stars at just a name drop. He’s so, _so_ young, too. It was jarring (and a little bit painful) for Jinyoung to look at him. Bambam had every opportunity to take advantage of Jaebum – and so Jinyoung waited and waited for the absolute worst to happen. He’d been so convinced of this that it was downright _frustrating_ to be proven wrong every single time.

 

Maybe…maybe Jinyoung has been acting out of hand. Maybe there’s something deeper and raw behind his projections that he’s not ready to face yet.

 

Jinyoung pulls out a porcelain bowl out of a cabinet and starts scooping Jaebum’s meal. Maybe he’ll ask Jaebum how he feels, and then Jinyoung can move on from there.

 

Despite all that pettiness about the ginger earlier, Jinyoung does place a helpful portion on top of the steaming porridge. After placing the bowl on a serving tray, as well as a glass of water and medication, Jinyoung heads towards Jaebum’s bedroom and invites himself inside.

 

As expected, Jaebum is sound asleep, oblivious to the world. The soundproofing in his room is apparently top notch.

 

“Hyung,” Jinyoung sits on the edge of the bed, nudging Jaebum’s shoulder. “Hyung, wake up.”

 

Jaebum makes a displeased sound from the back of his throat as he comes back to life, rustling in the sheets. One eye peeps open to look at Jinyoung, but not a second later, Jaebum just frowns and turns on his side. He attempts to draw up the blanket higher, but Jinyoung stops him by grabbing it in place.

 

“Hyung.” Jinyoung repeats again, more sternly. “It’s 3PM, how long do you plan to stay in bed?”

 

“Until I die,” Jaebum replies, like a child. Jinyoung puts a hand on his forehead. Well, the fever’s gone.

 

“I brought you food.”

 

Jaebum twists over and sees the tray on his nightstand. “Huh.” The frown deepens. “Did you make that? I’ll die for real if I eat that.”

 

Jinyoung huffs. “My culinary skills aren’t that bad.”

 

Jaebum nods. “They’re horrific.” He doesn’t know if he’s crazy or just really hungry, but the porridge in front of him doesn’t look that bad. In fact, it smells amazing. The first thought that runs through his mind as he sits up and lets Jinyoung lay the tray over his lap, is that Jinyoung must’ve accepted his incompetence in the kitchen and finally succumbed to buying from a restaurant. The second thought is that he hates ginger.

 

But anyway, Jaebum digs in to his first spoonful, and his heart thumps in his chest – “When did Bambam come? Is he still here?”

 

Jinyoung raises his eyebrows in surprise. “He just left. How did you know he was here?”

 

“ _This_.” Jaebum mixes up the toppings, even the ginger. “He made it. You should’ve woken me up.”

 

“I didn’t want to disturb you.”

 

Jaebum hums in understanding, but Jinyoung can tell he’s disappointed. It’s been more than a week since they’ve been able to come home, and that’s only because of Jaebum falling sick overseas. He hasn’t caught a cold in a long time – which must’ve been a big deal within the Ims’ household because even his father has granted him a break to recover. Jinyoung’s number is on his mother’s speed dial because she can’t trust him to tell her the truth about his wellbeing. And Jinyoung can imagine her being just a bit more upset that Jaebum has refused to stay in the family mansion in Ilsan, stubbornly staying cooped up in the heart of Seoul all by himself. All of that, just to be available for a certain visit from a certain person.

 

“Sorry,” Jinyoung says after watching Jaebum eat for a bit. “I’ll do that next time.”

 

“It’s fine; I wouldn’t have made good company anyway,” Jaebum mutters. Something about his tone makes Jinyoung feel like he’s done something awful. Although Jaebum’s flares of anger and ferocity are infamous (despite its only occurrence being when he faced opposition for his “free ride” to the top), what Jinyoung fears the most isn’t his sharp words or the destruction of furniture in his wake. What he fears, is the way Jaebum would conceal his hurt with gentle words and gentler eyes, as if everything could be solved if he just took responsibility for the mess in front of him. He was willing to take the blame for those he loved – and on top of that, forgive them too. This kind of vulnerability and bottomless kindness are detrimental to a man of his status. Jinyoung will never understand it. He doesn’t think he will ever be able to do the same.

 

The tone, while Jaebum is completely oblivious to it, makes Jinyoung feel like he’s done something wrong. At this rate, all Jinyoung has ever done is wrong him.

 

And that hurts.

 

That hurts.

 

Jinyoung wishes he wasn’t such an awful person.

 

“Hey…can I ask you something?”

 

Jaebum’s eyes flicker upwards. He’s sending Jinyoung the silent “ _what is it?_ ” while shoving another spoonful of food into his mouth.

 

“What makes Bambam so special?”

 

Surprised by the unexpected question, Jaebum is caught in between wanting to cough and to choke. His reflexes make him swallow, but then the blistering liquid is too much for him to handle. So he does both. Jinyoung lifts the tray before Jaebum can upturn the entire thing over his bed and waits for him to catch his breath. Jaebum only feels more embarrassed about his fit upon seeing Jinyoung’s unchanging seriousness.

 

“What…” Jaebum takes a moment to clear his throat, red in the face. “What brings?”

 

“I just wanted to know,” Jinyoung shrugs, feigning nonchalance. “You act different.”

 

“Do I?” Oh, Jaebum is fully aware. But he just wonders _how bad_ it is from an outsider’s view.

 

Jinyoung purses his lips and twirls his finger around air.

 

“Oh.” That bad. “I’m not sure if you want to hear it…”

 

“Hyung, I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t really want to know.”

 

It’s true. Jinyoung prefers to weasel out answers from others without their knowing rather than asking them directly. Still, Jaebum wants to steer Jinyoung away from this sensitive topic – and just the thought of having to express it out loud is enough to get his pulse racing. He’s only recently come to terms with _it_ and now Jinyoung is already confronting him about it. It’s like Jinyoung’s got a radar for all his secrets.

 

Jaebum rubs his neck and grunts, “It’s going to be embarrassing for the both of us. Mostly me, but I know you _hate_ cheesy things.”

 

Jinyoung’s eyebrows rise in curiosity. “That only piques my interest further, you know.”

 

Jaebum takes a moment to presumably formulate his thoughts. “I’m not sure how to describe it…” He frowns deeply, eyebrows etching inwards as if contemplating for the biggest speech of his life. He’s taking this question much more seriously than Jinyoung had anticipated.

 

“He’s nice?” Jinyoung attempts to help him.

 

Jaebum shakes his head immediately – “That’s – that’s too simple. But yeah, he’s nice.” Later, Jaebum begins with, “Don’t laugh at me, okay?”

 

Jinyoung nods, even throwing in a ‘JJ’ hand sign to solemnly swear. Jaebum cracks a teeth-baring grin at that, which makes Jinyoung’s eyes crinkle too. It’s a very old _thing_ of theirs.

 

“Bambam is special because he makes me feel…alive. It’s going to sound strange but – it’s like everything else but him is a dream. I can go to work, meet the most affluent businessmen, sign billion-won deals, _face my father_ , and not have to worry about a single thing. I can go through any hardship – because it’s a dream, and I can be anything I want in a dream. Including being invincible. And then when I finally come home, when he’s there waiting for me with open arms…it’s like taking the first breath of air when you wake up. It’s the feeling of a fresh, new day, the feeling of early sunlight on your fingertips.

 

But then sometimes, all at once, my world reverses. Suddenly, _he’s_ the dream. He’s so small, so soft. _So achingly pretty_. And it’s not just about his eyes, nose, lips – it’s about the light within him. I’ve never seen someone so radiant and unafraid. He has talent, but works even harder to back it up. He’s strong, but wears his heart on his sleeve.

 

He’s like a blooming _flower_. I want to cherish him and protect him. I want to be shade above him that shields him from the heavy rain. I want so many things with him that I –!”

 

Jaebum stops – “Jinyoung? What’s wrong?”

 

Jinyoung widens his smile and looks away, willing away his watery eyes. “It’s nothing. I just…oh, hyung…I didn’t know you were so…”

 

“Crazy?” Jaebum smiles wryly.

 

Jinyoung shakes his head. “ _In love_ ,” he corrects breathlessly.

 

Jaebum swallows thickly. “Don’t tell him, okay? It’s – it’s all me right now, and I don’t want to scare him away or anything like that.”

 

Jinyoung just closes his eyes and dips his head in shame, confusing Jaebum. “I did something terrible,” he confesses.

 

“What?” Jaebum pushes his blanket away and reaches out to lay a gentle hand on Jinyoung’s shoulder, squeezing the tense muscles. “Don’t cry. Is it about those photos?”

 

-

 

Outside, Bambam stalks back inside the condo, not even sure why he’s attempting to be quiet when he knows damn well that the door beeps regardless of how gently he closes it. Bambam freezes, waiting for Jinyoung to jump at him again and start yelling at him or something. When a good minute passes, Bambam deems it’s safe to move deeper into the house and tiptoes into the kitchen where he probably left his wallet. He’s so annoyed. He walked all the way to the bus stop and waited the full twenty minutes for the bus to come only to realize he’s forgotten his wallet when it was his turn to pay for the fare. Now he has to get back out there and wait another twenty minutes. It’s been a shitty day, really.

 

On the way out, Bambam spies the door to Jaebum’s bedroom left agape. It’s not wide open or anything, but the light is on, and so he figures that Jaebum must’ve woken up. Bambam walks towards it, only to halt abruptly at the sound of Jinyoung.

 

-

 

“…Yes, but I also did something else.”

 

Jaebum frowns. “I’m sure you didn’t mean it,” he says carefully.

 

Jinyoung pauses, and then deflates. “No. At the time, I meant it. But now I know I’ve been wrong about everything.”

 

“…As long as you know now and can admit to it.”

 

“Hyung, you won’t like me so much when I tell you what I did.”

 

“Jinyoung-ah, don’t be so hard on yourself –!”

 

“I called him a whore.” Jinyoung interrupts.

 

Jaebum clamps his mouth shut, staring down at Jinyoung with stony eyes.

 

“I cornered him and told him to stay away from you, because I had seen the headlines when Jackson’s scandal just broke out, and I knew that there was only one bracelet of his kind in the world – you asked for my opinion on the design. I thought he wasn’t worth your time, that he was just there to reap from your lavish gifts. And to add onto that – two-timing you _and_ Jackson? I hated him immediately.”

 

Jaebum has nothing to say, silently clenching his fist.

 

“When Jackson finally came to Korea…I took the opportunity to ask him if he was seeing someone. And he said he was. Hyung, it just connected so seamlessly together – I convinced myself of it. I…I’ve made a mess, haven’t I?”

 

Jaebum takes his hand off Jinyoung.

 

“Hyung, I’m sorry.”

 

-

 

Bambam backs away from the door. He’s already heard too much and is invading their privacy. As quietly as possible, Bambam leaves and pensively goes over the newly obtained information as he stoops under the shade of the bus stop again. He purses his lips, eyebrows sown together.

 

Whatever conversation those two were having, it apparently led to Jinyoung coming clean about the gala. Now he knows _why_ Jinyoung did that to him. Whether or not this knowledge is enough to earn his forgiveness is something he’ll have to consider another day when he’s not so agitated over everything in the world. After all, there’s still the tension, the small fight between them not even an hour ago. Bambam’s not so sure animosity like that can just be uprooted overnight, especially when they’ve been holding grudges against each other for months.

 

But now, the person who confuses him isn’t Jinyoung anymore – it’s Jackson. Bambam knows for a fact that Jackson is single – has revealed that he’s been single for a _long_ time because of how busy and popular he is. Jackson can barely take care of himself, he’d said, so how could he have the time and effort to care for another person?

 

Furthermore…there was that time they bonded past midnight over convenience store ice cream. Didn’t Jackson still have feelings for Jinyoung? That was the impression he got, anyway, with the way Jackson would steal glances at Jinyoung the entire night, the day the four of them had dinner together by the beach.

 

Why would Jackson lie about seeing someone?

 

Does he even know what went down between Jaebum and Bambam?

 

**me**

[Fri, Aug 11, 3:21PM]

jacks

can we talk soon?

 

**King Jackson!**

[Fri, Aug 11, 3:30PM]

sure! I’ll be on break in an hour

you’re just in time

someone called my tracksuit ugly

:((

 

**King Jackson!**

[Fri, Aug 11, 3:31PM]

the AUDACITY!!

this is ADIDAS

I am an ENDORSOR

 

**me**

[Fri, Aug 11, 3:32PM]

they’re not ugly

 

**King Jackson!**

[Fri, Aug 11, 3:32PM]

thank you

favorite dongsaeng <333

<333

<3

 

**me**

[Fri, Aug 11, 3:32PM]

they’re lazy

 

 

**King Jackson!**

[Fri, Aug 11, 3:33PM]

wow

>:(

and to think I once thought of you

as my brother!

 

**me**

[Fri, Aug 11, 3:33PM]

ㅋㅋ

anyway, I meant in person!

it’s kinda personal, hyung

will you be back soon?

 

**King Jackson!**

[Fri, Aug 11, 3:35PM]

oh

probably

I gotta go now, take care, bammie

 

-

 

“Probably,” according to Jackson, means another two weeks. So for the meantime, any questions Bambam has about the mess interwoven into their relationships has to be put in the backburner. Though honestly, Bambam didn’t have any problem finding a worthwhile distraction to help him sweep his worries under the rug.

 

Especially now, when Jaebum’s got his hands on him, settled nice and warm on the small of his back. Bambam is lying on top of Jaebum, his torso supported upwards just enough for him to comfortably kiss him while the sun slowly sets in front of them. Bambam has always loved the view Jaebum’s condo has whenever he remembers to pull the curtains aside – it’s truly a magical experience to see how the city transforms as fluorescent lights dot every window in the distance and zigzag in the shape of the highways. The hazy, orange glow over the horizon is captured beautifully by the crystal chandelier overhead, and the resulting scattered light is deliberately reflected in geometric shapes across the entirety of the glossy wooden floor.

 

Jaebum slides one of his hands up to curl sweetly around his nape, thumb pressing gently, but surely, over Bambam’s most sensitive spot. The touch makes his toes curl, and Bambam wants nothing more than to stay like this for the rest of the evening. He wants nothing more – because _this_ is already so much. _This_ is the way his heart expands with so many feelings he feels like an overblown balloon about to burst. Like helium, every soft exchange of their lips feels like a gradual ascension to the sky. If Bambam was ever holding onto the string of this orange balloon, it must’ve slipped from his fingers a long time ago. It’s out of his control now, the way it’s swaying in the wind above the clouds, lurching this way and that every time Jaebum curls his tongue deep into Bambam’s helpless mouth.

 

And later, when Bambam pulls away just enough for them to catch their breaths, the sight that meets his eyes is nearly too much to handle. Jaebum is painted golden beneath the light, devastatingly handsome with his defined brows and angular jawline. His hair, although undone, still manages to fall neatly in place. Jaebum is just effortlessly stunning, attractive even when he doesn’t intend to. But it’s the serene smile on his face, the warm orange hues underlying his shining brown eyes that really have Bambam holding onto his breath. Bambam can see Jaebum’s eyes sweeping over his features slowly as if they’re a sight to behold – as if he himself isn’t the perfect picture of romance.

 

Jaebum looks at him as if he’s the most beautiful thing in the world, which is still sometimes very puzzling for Bambam to think about. Bambam has seen many of Jaebum’s friends, acquaintances, and clientele – all of them are alike in their wealth, their glamor, and just overall aura of importance. Bambam doesn’t really…fit with any of that. So it’s hard to believe Jaebum sometimes, even though Bambam can see how much effort he puts into making Bambam believe it too. The most obvious point is how often he says it – he calls Bambam cute in the morning, when Bambam’s eyes won’t even open all the way and there’s drool drying up on the side of his mouth. He calls Bambam pretty two hours later, when he joins him at the vanity and makes it a thing between them to pick out a tint or a gloss for Bambam to wear throughout their date. He texts Bambam a heart emoji at the café, when Bambam’s in line getting their coffee and Jaebum makes him check his phone for essentially nothing.

 

He calls Bambam _baby_ , not only when they’re beneath the sheets, but also when he reaches for Bambam’s hand over the table, or when he rushes out of the airport and cups Bambam’s cheeks all frantically even though it’s only been a week since they’ve last seen each other.

 

Jaebum looks at him like _this_ , and that’s when Bambam really believes him.

 

The orange balloon is miles above the sky now – but instead of hurting when it bursts due to air pressure, Bambam just feels a wave of warmth washing over his entire body. He takes a deep breath and smiles softly as he leans back down and curls into Jaebum’s neck, a space reserved just for him. Jaebum strokes his hair immediately, massaging his scalp while his other hand is busy lacing fingers with Bambam’s. The warmth buzzes deep inside him, is stronger where their skin touches.

 

Something changes within Bambam then. He feels – free. It’s like he’s been holding back, afraid of some invisible force that could throw him crashing to the ground if he soared too high, too fast. But the ascension had been gradual…comfortable. It’s not so scary to be up in the clouds now, not that bad to be close to the sun.

 

Bambam glances up at Jaebum, sighing dreamily at his golden glow. Jaebum simply draws his chin up and drinks in that very sigh, caressing Bambam’s red lips with his own.

 

It’s not scary at all, Bambam realizes.

 

It’s absolutely lovely.

 

-

 

(“How do you get _sick_ in the summer?” Yugyeom snorts at Bambam, who is shivering underneath the blanket burrito that he’s _not_ supposed to be in. He’s supposed to cool down the fever, not heat up even more.

 

“Shut up.”

 

“Weren’t you making fun of Jaebum just the other week? Look at you now. That’s karma,” Yugyeom laughs.

 

Bambam stays quiet.

 

“How’d you catch it? I swear all you do is stay home or go to work.”

 

“…Yugyeom, you’re really dumb.”

 

“Hey!”

 

It only takes Yugyeom three hours later to get it when Jaebum comes to visit with medicine and food, swooping in to kiss Bambam in greeting like nothing’s wrong.

 

Yugyeom blanches at the sight – “That’s _nasty_! So unhygienic – I can’t believe you two would willingly swap germs like that oh my god, unbelievable…” His voice trails out as he runs into his room, where it’s “safe.”

 

Jaebum shrugs. “Well, I’m immune to it now, right? It came from me, anyway.”

 

Bambam sneezes into his face. Jaebum stiffens, eyes closed in reaction to the splatter.

 

“…Sorry.”

 

Okay. Maybe kinda gross.)

 

-

 

**King Jackson!**

[Wed, Aug 23, 8:35PM]

BAM

looks like I’ll be back sooner than expected

got a photoshoot in two days

 

**King Jackson!**

[Wed, Aug 23, 8:36PM]

wanna come get me?~

I land at 4AM!

:)))

 

Bambam pauses the video he’s watching to read the messages. He narrows his eyes.

 

**me**

[Wed, Aug 23, 8:36PM]

!!!!!

4AM?

??????

no!

 

**King Jackson!**

[Wed, Aug 23, 8:37PM]

>:(

why not!

 

**me**

[Wed, Aug 23, 8:37PM]

hyung it’s 4AM…

ㅠㅠ

 

**King Jackson!**

[Wed, Aug 23, 8:38PM]

if you love me, you would 10000% come get me

 

And that’s how Bambam finds himself being pushed around by rabid teenage girls in the middle of Incheon International Airport at precisely 4AM, barely catching himself on wobbly knees as he gets thrown out of the screaming crowd. He stares at the entire scene with an open mouth – he’s seen pictures of idols being mobbed all the time but had never _felt_ how awful it could be until now. Bambam punches frustrated texts to Jackson for not warning him about this only to get an excited, “Oooooh! How many people are there?” He’s about to spam Jackson with angry emojis when he gets a sincere apology – and that just makes Bambam feel bad for complaining. It’s not Jackson’s fault that people are being so unruly here. Jackson apparently didn’t expect the crowd either, which was why he thought it was safe to ask Bambam to come get him. Someone must’ve leaked his schedule out to the fansites.

 

Bambam shuts his mouth close and frowns grumpily, yanking the strings of his hoodie tighter around his face. Alright. Whatever. He’s going to enter the battlefield. Egghead reporting for duty.

 

When the screaming intensifies, that’s how Bambam knows that Jackson is somewhere inside the sea of people. And it’s not hard to find exactly where either, because all the flashing cameras and held-up phones pointed in a singular direction provide a big clue on Jackson’s location.

 

“Excuse me,” Bambam repeats out of habit as he squeezes through impossibly small gaps, ducking away from carelessly swinging elbows. As he gets closer, he’s horrified to find out that Jackson has _no_ security around him. It’s literally just him by himself, nodding at the fans and tiredly smiling at them beneath his lowered cap. He looks – trapped. And overwhelmed. It looks like his voice isn’t being heard, or just being blatantly ignored as more cameras record him in a standstill.

 

Infuriated by the scene, Bambam fights harder, gets more vocal.

 

“Jackson!” He calls out, but it drowns amongst the many other screaming variations of his name. Through a stroke of luck, Bambam finds an opening to get to Jackson and wastes no time in plowing through said opening. Unluckily for him, this means tripping over someone’s foot and tumbling forward until the momentum takes him crashing into Jackson’s solid back.

 

Midst the spike in screaming over the incident, Bambam clutches his nose in pain. Damn Jackson and his stupid muscles – it was like colliding into a rock. When he recovers enough to look up, Bambam catches the last second of Jackson’s weary look before it turns into recognition – and very quickly after that, a smile. Jackson grabs onto Bambam’s wrist; he seems a lot brighter now that he’s with someone he knows.

 

“Oppa!” A girl yells.

 

It draws both of their eyes towards her direction – and suddenly Bambam finds a camera right in front of his face.

 

Aw, _shit_.

 

Bambam’s still an egghead and now it’s going to be all over the internet. He might as well end his fashion career now.

 

“Who is that?”

 

Both of them freeze at the question, vaguely aware that it looks like they were caught red-handed in a scandalous situation. The longer they freeze, the more pictures and videos of Jackson holding onto Bambam gets captured. They can’t escape either – Bambam’s face is exposed to the public. Just before the panic can creep up on Bambam, Jackson loudly answers.

 

“My stylist!”

 

Oh. Yes.

 

The gears kick in, and Bambam starts fulfilling his role. He changes Jackson’s grip so that he’s the one holding onto Jackson now. “Everyone, please make way! We are running late on schedule!” The crowd appears to hesitate a little, so Bambam keeps pressing on, making sure to appear urgent. “It’s a _very_ important shoot, please make way for Jackson!” He continues to repeat this white lie until miraculously, the exit of the airport is within sight. Bambam was beginning to forget what the floor or the sky looked like.

 

There’s a taxi that just dropped off a customer to the right, and Bambam yanks Jackson right into it without looking back or even asking for affirmation. The taxi driver seems flustered as Bambam and Jackson all but throw themselves into the car, quickly rolling the windows up as the horde catches up to them. Jackson continues to smile and wave because unlike his manager’s car, the windows aren’t tinted.

 

“Sir, please drive,” Jackson says even as he throws hearts at his fans.

 

“R-Right!” The middle aged man jumps into action, and Bambam figures he must be a fan too, considering how often he keeps glancing at Jackson through the rear view mirror. They take off with a rev of the engine, bodies hitting the back seat due to the sudden acceleration.

 

After a safe distance away, Bambam slides down his seat. “Wow…” he exhales. “You deal with that everyday?”

 

Jackson’s perfect smile turns into more of a grimace. “Well…no. I usually have more security with me. I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have had to go through that. I thought a personal flight in the middle of the night would put me in the clear. I was careless.”

 

Bambam sighs, “There’s no need to apologize, hyung. It was out of your control.” He pats Jackson’s knee. “You’re way more popular in Korea than I thought,” he teases.

 

“Hey!” Jackson pouts, crossing his arms in offense. Bambam laughs at how childish he’s acting all while sporting a five o’clock shadow. “My _Jackys_ are _worldwide_.”

 

A few moments later into their playful banter, the driver interrupts them at a red light to remind them that he actually has no idea where their destination is. Both of them promptly shut their mouths, looking at each other and recognizing how dumb they are.

 

“Sorry,” Jackson sheepishly rubs the back of his head. “The Park Hyatt in Seoul.”

 

Bambam really shouldn’t be surprised at where Jackson is staying, considering he’s a top star and all that. But it’s just so easy to forget about his status, his occupation – hell, his _age_ – when they get along so well as if they’ve been friends all their lives. Jackson is fun and comfortable – like Yugyeom, but different. And so here he is, surprised and struggling to keep himself from curling up in shame as he shuffles behind Jackson in a ratty university hoodie while a hotel worker pointedly ignores his existence. He’s been here once before – he knows the second floor has a fancy restaurant where Jaebum has taken him out to celebrate his win at the fashion show. But it was different then – Bambam was dressed head to toe in money and he blended right in when he snuck a hand underneath Jaebum’s elbow.

 

“Oh my god,” Jackson groans, ripping off his snapback and dragging his face down with both hands. They finally just got rid of the overly enthusiastic porter who insisted on carrying Jackson’s personal luggage even though Jackson clearly expressed his reluctance. “ _Finally._ ”

 

Bambam steps out of Jackson’s way as he dives towards the massive leather couch, throwing a leg over the back. He seems to give up on the maneuver half-way though, and ends up hanging on the edge instead of fully rolling onto the seats. Bambam decides that he just needs a little push.

 

“Ooof.” Jackson lands on a pillow. “What time is it?”

 

“Five thirty-ish,” Bambam estimates. “You look pretty tired. I guess I should head home and we can talk some other time.”

 

“What? No!” Jackson frowns. “Just stay here, it’s too late for you to be going out.”

 

“You made me come get you at 4AM,” Bambam points out with a raise of an eyebrow.

 

“That’s different,” Jackson waves his hand dismissively. “My agency booked too big of a room anyway. You can stay with me for the night!”

 

“It’s okay, I don’t want to bother you. My room’s pretty comfy.”

 

“But isn’t it way better here?”

 

Bambam falls silent, glancing around the luxurious hotel and…deflating. Yeah. Jackson’s right. Even the couch here would probably be better than Bambam’s old, springy mattress. It’s air conditioned too, so he wouldn’t have to listen to the rattle of his fan all night as it rotates around the room. But everything here is just a reminder of what he doesn’t have, of what he can pretend to enjoy but isn’t a life that’s his. And quite frankly, he’s getting tired of feeling inferior around this kind of environment all the time. It’s starting to make him feel defensive about his humble status – he’s not any less happy without all this money anyway.

 

“So? There’s nothing wrong with my apartment.”

 

Jackson lifts his head up, noticing the change in tone. “I…I didn’t say there was?”

 

Bambam grabs onto the hem of his hoodie, scratching at the material anxiously. He didn’t mean to raise a problem. It just slipped out.

 

“Do you think all of this is obnoxious? I didn’t mean to show off or anything like that – I’m sorry if I said something wrong.” Jackson is so quick to apologize that it embarrasses Bambam further.

 

“No – I –!” Bambam stops mid-sentence and huffs frustratingly. “Man, why are you so nice?” He asks instead and throws himself over the couch too, landing on top of Jackson and smiling as Jackson complains about his back breaking under the weight.

 

“You know, you’re a _lot_ heavier than you look,” Jackson grunts. Bambam rolls his eyes. “Trust me, _I_ would know! I lift weights! 10 kg per arm no problem! But _you_ , _ugh_.” He whines some more, which makes Bambam wonder how far Jackson will take his theatrics if he starts bouncing. “You honestly can’t blame me if I drop you on your head.”

 

It takes a second for the memory of a painful headache to resurface. “That was you? Jackson, you dropped me?!”

 

Jackson pauses. “…I didn’t say that. It was hypothetical,” he clicks his tongue.

 

Bambam squints at him, but it only lasts for a second before he slides off Jackson with a squeak. Apparently Jackson’s had enough of this.

 

“Alright, let’s get straight to the point before either of us falls asleep.” Jackson pats the seat next to him, which Bambam fills in immediately. “So? What’s up? Do I have to punch anybody for you? I throw a mean one,” He smiles, jokingly demonstrating some light punches to the air.

 

Bambam smiles back, ducking away from what is probably a hair ruffle when he pushes his hood down. “No, but thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

“Oh good,” Jackson sighs in relief, clutching his chest. “I’ve only punched bags, not bodies.”

 

Bambam nods, then falls quiet to think about how to approach the topic. It was a lot easier in his head two weeks ago when he was angry and thought about prying answers out of Jackson, but now that he’s here, he’s not so sure if it’s really his business to even ask. It’s…a sore subject…for both of them. And Bambam hasn’t talked to Jackson about Jinyoung and Jaebum and his relationship with the two of them enough to be able to gauge how Jackson will take this. He’s hesitant – because Bambam can still remember the hard look on his face just from seeing Jinyoung and how he pretended to be okay for all of them.

 

“I’ve been…curious about some things,” Bambam begins carefully.

 

“Hm,” Jackson hums thoughtfully. “About what?”

 

“Well…it has to do with Jaebum hyung.” That’s safe, right? It’s close enough to the topic.

 

“Okay…” Jackson nods slowly. Then, his eyes suddenly pop into saucers. “Wait a moment. I’m not the right guy to be asked about this.”

 

“Uh – what? Of course you are.”

 

“No, no,” Jackson shakes his head – and for some reason is getting red. Bambam’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “I don’t know Jaebum hyung well in _that_ way.”

 

Bambam has no idea what Jackson’s going on about. “What way?”

 

“You know what way,” Jackson stares at him meaningfully.

 

“I – no, I don’t. What are you talking about? I didn’t even say what I meant.”

 

“Oh, hyung knows what you mean.” Jackson puts a hand on Bambam’s shoulder. Bambam just stares back at him, waiting for him to finally explain what sort of conclusion he jumped to. “You want to know about Jaebum’s _kinks_.”

 

Bambam gasps in alarm, jumping up from his seat with heat rapidly rising to his face. “ _What?!_ Oh my god, _Jackson,_ hyung, _no!_ ”

 

“No?” Jackson’s face morphs into horror. “Sorry!!!”

 

“AH,” Bambam screams into a pillow.

 

“AH!” Jackson mimics him in the other direction.

 

By six o’clock in the morning, the sun has risen beyond the curtains but at least the both of them have calmed down enough to sit still.

 

“Let’s not go down that direction again,” Bambam murmurs.

 

“Yeah,” Jackson grips a cushion tightly. “Let’s not.” Then, a minute later, “This is so weird. You’re like – my little brother – but you’re also like – dating Jaebum, which makes you more or less my equal if I respect your relationship. How old are you again?”

 

“Twenty-one,” Bambam reminds him grimly.

 

“Wow,” is all Jackson says after that.

 

“You’ll all be hitting your thirties before I even graduate.”

 

“Wow.”

 

“And I’ll still be running around trying to make something out of myself while you’ve all already got it together.”

 

Jackson looks at him then, a small little thing curled up towards the corner of the couch, cheek pressed sadly into his crossed arms. Jackson scoots closer to Bambam, frowning. “Is this what you’re worried about?”

 

Bambam shrugs, though he doesn’t look away from Jackson. He looks straight into Jackson’s concerned eyes as he admits, “Partly.”

 

“You’re young; that’s a good thing.”

 

“I guess. But I want to grow up faster. I…want my career to take off faster.”

 

“Faster?” Jackson purses his lips. “You already do so much – I don’t know anyone your age who hustles as much as you do. Why are you in such a rush?”

 

“Because,” Bambam breathes in. “I don’t want people to think I’m undeserving of being by Jaebum hyung’s side. I don’t want them to think he fucked up by being with me when he could be with someone so much better. I want to stop feeling insecure whenever I go out with him and he takes me to all these nice places. I want to stop feeling guilty when he gives me expensive gifts, knowing I can’t return the sentiment.”

 

“Bam…you’re just in a different part of your life. Everything you want will come with time – and you know Jaebum won’t be going anywhere. He’d wait forever for you,” Jackson says softly. “He looks at you like you’re the moon and stars.” He taps on Bambam’s wrist gently, guiding Bambam’s eyes over to where the golden bracelet rests. Bambam flips his wrist over, sucking in his bottom lip as he gives the moon pendent some thought.

 

“It’s just hard.”

 

“Hard to be with him?”

 

Bambam shakes his head. “No. It’s easy to be with him. It’s just hard when I’m not, because then I remember that I’m…I’m not on his level. And it’s not just him either – it’s anyone of his caliber,” he glances at Jackson, who seems to get the message immediately. “People think I’m taking advantage of these connections. They call me bad things.”

 

Jackson’s nose flares. “So I _do_ have to punch somebody, after all.”

 

Bambam snorts, smiling. He doesn’t duck away when Jackson reaches out to ruffle his hair this time. “Would you punch Jinyoung?” He jokes, more to his own amusement.

 

Jackson stills – “What?”

 

“Nothing,” Bambam mumbles. “But enough about me. I actually came to ask you a few things about Jinyoung…” He can see Jackson clenching his teeth and then closing his eyes as he takes in a deep breath as if to remind himself to relax. “Did Jaebum hyung ever talk to you about…about you and me in your dating scandal?”

 

“What does that have to do with…?” Jackson trails off. Bambam doesn’t mind him turning brisk, already somewhat expecting for this to happen.

 

“We know it’s just tabloid nonsense…but Jinyoung didn’t think so. He thought I was cheating on hyung with you.”

 

Jackson stares at Bambam in disbelief. Then, his mind takes him back to that dark, menacing look on Jaebum’s face that night he took Bambam home. It was nothing like he’s ever seen – petrifying, monstrous.

 

“He said it was because you were ‘seeing someone.’ Why did you lie to him?”

 

Jackson clenches his fists, looking away. “Bambam,” he says lowly, a small warning for where this is going.

 

But Bambam won’t let this go. “Hyung,” he persists. “I know you still like him – I can fill in the blanks, you know. I just don’t get why you’re deflecting him. Shouldn’t you two talk over whatever it is that happened –!”

 

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Jackson interrupts.

 

“Clearly there is, or else you wouldn’t be so hung up over it after all these years,” Bambam lays it up front. “I can’t imagine what it’s like to – to _pretend_ like everything’s fine all the time in front of Jaebum hyung.”

 

“I’m not pretending. Everything _is_ fine. It’s fine the way it is now. As long as Jaebum hyung is happy, we’re all happy.” Jackson says with such distaste that it surprises Bambam. A chill runs up his spine.

 

“…What?” Bambam can’t help the way his mouth goes slack. He didn’t expect _this_ at all.

 

Jackson seems guilty about the outburst instantly, eyebrows etching deeply into his forehead. He places a hand over his mouth, looking away as he quietly tries to take his words back. “…I didn’t mean that.”

 

Bambam accepts it hesitantly. “Okay.”

 

They drop into an uncomfortable silence for a long while. Jackson refuses to look at him, or anywhere in his direction. But it’s not like Bambam would know, because he’s also busy staring straight down at his own hoodie, twiddling his thumbs. The assertion was – startling. It’s probably because Bambam had believed that their friendship was completely pure, free of ill thoughts and petty jealousy. But he supposes that was naïve of him. Friendships don’t have to be perfect to be strong. Perhaps Jackson is just tired and Bambam is pushing him too much.

 

“It’s just…” Jackson begins, and Bambam looks up at him, still a little afraid to lift his chin completely. “Well…I’m sure you know by now that…Jinyoung and Jaebum hyung were together back then, right?”

 

Bambam nods.

 

“It’s all in the past,” Jackson makes sure to point that out. “I think you and hyung are great for each other.” Bambam decides to keep quiet, waiting for the “but” to be said. “Jinyoung just seems to always choose Jaebum hyung, and it makes me wonder why. Did you know the Ims and the Parks have close familial ties? Their fathers were friends. Their father’s _fathers_ were friends. At one point, I think Jinyoung was supposed to be next in line for the financial group instead because Jaebum hyung ran from his family in college.”

 

Bambam’s eyes widen.

 

“Things happened and Jaebum decided to become the rightful heir after all. Jinyoung was going to go manage a branch in Hong Kong upon graduation.”

 

It doesn’t slip past Bambam the fact that Jinyoung had the complete opportunity to be with Jackson then, considering how Jackson’s first gig towards stardom was in his hometown.

 

“But he chose to be Jaebum hyung’s secretary…with a mind like his, you’d think he’d…be more ambitious. So I just think Jaebum hyung is very important to him.” Jackson lets out a shaky breath.

 

“Oh,” Bambam says hoarsely.

 

“Yeah.”

 

Bambam doesn’t know what to think about all this – he just knows that there’s an unknown heavy, sinking feeling in his stomach.

 

“That’s only _my_ thoughts,” Jackson continues to reassure him. “If you really need to know, I lied to Jinyoung because I didn’t want him to think I was still pining for him when he didn’t even want to be with me.” He laughs dryly. “Wouldn’t I look so pathetic?”

 

“You’re not pathetic,” Bambam is quick to interject. “You just – you need closure. You need to find out what really happened. You left before meeting him one more time, remember?” He spills out his words hurriedly, wanting to comfort him but not knowing how.

 

“Bam,” Jackson lays his hand on top of Bambam’s, giving it a squeeze and a forlorn smile. “It’s been years. It’s okay. We’re all doing well now, and that’s what matters. You don’t have to worry about anything.”

 

Frustration builds up and clogs Bambam’s throat. He can’t believe Jackson is trying to comfort him right now when it should be the other way around. He’s the one prying for all this information from his darkest place and Jackson’s just taking it all in.

 

“It’s unfair,” Bambam croaks, trying to swallow.

 

“A lot of things are,” Jackson muses. He chuckles upon seeing Bambam’s jutting and quivering lip, like a baby about to throw a tantrum. “Don’t cry,” he coos, reaching over to pinch his cheek.

 

Bambam swats his hand away angrily, not in a mood for jokes. “Stop,” he says, but it comes out as a whimper that invites Jackson in for more teasing. “I mean it.”

 

“Okay, okay.”

 

The sun peeks through more strongly now, and Bambam figures it must be at least seven in the morning. Jackson stifles a yawn beside him, and it’s contagious enough for Bambam to feel tired too, eyes drooping. They silently agree to end the conversation here, shuffling to prepare for bed. Bambam moves to pull the curtains closer together, making it just that bit darker in the living room.

 

“Sure you don’t want the bed?” Jackson asks, to which Bambam nods.

 

Jackson tosses him a spare blanket from the bedroom as he lies down on the couch.

 

“Hey,” Bambam stops Jackson from leaving, staring up at the upside down version of him. “I’m sorry for bringing all that up on you suddenly.”

 

“There’s nothing to apologize for. But see, even us oldies got problems. Don’t be in such a rush to grow up – we’re not any better than you are.”

 

“But we won’t run away from our problems, right?”

 

Jackson pauses. “Right.” He takes a moment to look at Bambam. “We won’t.”

 

Bambam pulls out an arm from beneath the blanket, raising his pinky up. “Promise?”

 

“…Yeah.” They curl their pinkies together, shaking once, twice before letting go. “You’re really something, Bam,” Jackson says fondly before walking away.

 

He can see why Jaebum’s so head over heels.

 

-

 

“Wake up!!!” Bambam screeches into the bedroom. Jackson continues to be dead to the world, his bare back exposed where the blanket has been carelessly shrugged off in sleep. “Hyung, wake up!”

 

Jackson groans into the pillow.

 

“Hyung, you need to do damage control right now!” Bambam yanks the pillow right beneath Jackson’s face.

 

“Wha?” Jackson manages to wrench one eye open and the first thing he sees is a blur of images on a phone.

 

“ _Look_!”

 

Jackson does look. Then, he lethargically reaches for his own phone. The slow movements do nothing but make Bambam more frantic.

 

Upon unlocking his phone, he sees a rain of messages pour into his notifications from the Team Wang group chat. Then, he goes on twitter to stalk his fanbase.

 

“Ah,” he says.

 

“Ah?!” Bambam squawks. “How could you just ‘ah?’ You need to do something before your fans get the attention of the press and then we’ll have round two of the dating scandal extravaganza!” But this time, Bambam won’t have the same anonymity.

 

“It’s fine,” Jackson smacks his lips, feeling the staleness of his mouth. Contrary to the rest of his body, his fingers are rapidly responding to his management. “I have a solution.”

 

“What?”

 

“Just be my stylist for real.”

 

Bambam promptly shuts his mouth.

 

“Gotta have your career take off, right?” Jackson doesn’t even spare him a look. “You can design something for me. I’ve got this cruise ship party in two weeks. It’ll dispel rumors if I hire you.”

 

Bambam feels his stress levels spike tenfold.

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

( _Jinyoung’s late. He’s supposed to meet Jackson in twenty minutes, but he’s not going to make it if he stops by Jaebum’s studio first. He considers coming by tomorrow instead, but it was a request from Jaebum’s_ father _. Just that fact should be enough to make it an urgent priority. After all, he’s the man that made Jinyoung’s freedom a reality. He’s not tied down to the company anymore – he can go and just…be. Be anything he wants to be. He can go to Hong Kong, he can be an author…he can actually do something out of that secret literature major of his._

_Jinyoung breathes in. It’s okay. It’ll be quick. He just has to go and check up on Jaebum._

_He pulls into a parking space beside the curb of an alley and quickly pulls off the seatbelt, rushing to get out of the car and into the studio._

_When he pulls the door open, he stops breathing._

_He can only stare in horror as he takes in the trashed music studio, all the music sheets ripped and spewed all over the floor. The sound equipment is thrown off its rightful place on the wall, shattered into pieces. The mic is broken. The mixer looks like it’s been banged against a few times. The lights don’t turn on anymore._

_Then, the sound of a sob breaks through his stupor._

_Jinyoung’s feet seem to move on their own, turning around the corner of a wall._

_His knees fall to the ground, but he can’t even feel the pain that arises. Instead, his heart breaks, and it strikes him exactly what he’s done. Jaebum’s father didn’t grant him freedom – Jaebum did. Jinyoung ripped him of his dream, of what he loves the most: music._

_So Jinyoung bites his lip as he cries silently until he bleeds. He watches with guilt and shame as Jaebum, curled up in a corner and knees drawn to his chest, sobs with raw, hitched breathing as if it was painful for him to continue living._

_Jinyoung can’t believe how ready he was to leave this entire burden on Jaebum. He can’t believe he was so ready to step on Jaebum’s dream for his own sake. If he had been as brave, if he hadn’t been so stupidly controlled by the pressure of his and Jaebum’s family…he wouldn’t have ever had to hurt Jaebum like this._

_He’s disgusting. Jinyoung digs his nails into his fists, forcing himself to burn this image of Jaebum into his memory, so as to never forget his sin._

_He hates himself._ )

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> o-<-<
> 
> lolol mood, I hate myself too wheeeeee. Anyway, /sweats profusely. I'm...trying my best with this fic but for some reason every time I plan out a chapter outline, I hit 10k even before I get to the end of the outline SMH. 
> 
> Again, thank you so much for reading! It means the world ;u;
> 
> ((pst, come be my frand @tremmy_chii on that one blue bird app))


	12. tell a lie, tell me why

 

 

 

Jimin pushes the door open with her body weight, holding onto two hot coffees with concentration as she lets herself inside the sewing room. Instead of walking into the image of Bambam working hard on his new design as expected, Jimin is greeted with the sight of Bambam lying on the floor hardly working. For all that complaining and all that whining for the past hour about how much work he has to do – this is what he chooses to spend his time on? Nothing?

 

“Hey!” Jimin hollers, stomping towards his dead body. “What are you doing?” She jabs the point of her heel into his side. Surprisingly, she gets no response. Now _that’s_ worrisome.

 

“Mmh.” Bambam groans on the floor.

 

“You’re going to breakout, you know,” Jimin wrinkles her nose, eyeing the way his cheek is pressed to the tile. Disgusting. “If you cry then, I’m going to tell you I told you so.” She crouches down and yanks on his midsection, rolling him over to face her. “I brought you the bitter bean water.”

 

“Oh thank god.” Bambam’s eyes suddenly brighten, his whole being coming back to life as his upper body shoots up at the sound of promised caffeine. Jimin clicks her tongue as she hands him his cup. But once Bambam takes his first sip, the light in his eyes die again. He plops right back down. “Instant coffee?” The bitter tastelessness is frighteningly akin to his soul right now. “Couldn’t you take pity on me and get me something that doesn’t taste like regret?”

 

“You should be grateful I got you anything at all at this hour,” Jimin huffs. “Get up. You have a scary deadline to meet. Show me what you’ve got so far.”

 

With a heavy sigh, Bambam gets up. He walks over to the worktable, where a series of sketchbooks and scratch paper lie haphazardly all over the surface. He bends over on top, sinking into his arms in despair. “That’s the problem, Jimin. I’ve got _nothing_.”

 

Jimin raises her eyebrow at the exclamation. As she scans the numerous designs already on the table, she can confidently say that Bambam has more than enough material to work with. In fact, he might have too much – they’re all so good and thoroughly patterned. He just has to pick his ass up and actually start sewing. “What are you talking about?” She picks up a book, flipping through the pages with an expression that could almost be mistaken for disinterest. Really, at this point, she’s just desensitized to the pure art that Bambam is able to produce seemingly out of thin air. “You have so much in front of you – just pick one and run with it.”

 

“No – these are all…they’re old, Jimin. I haven’t touched menswear in a while now, so these are just some of my old stuff for inspiration. Besides, I really have no idea where I’m going to be able to find all the fabrics I need unless I make it myself.” At the last thought, Bambam pales. If he needs to hop on a loom, he needs to hop on it _now_. Weaving fabric takes _forever_ and students technically aren’t supposed to be on campus past 10PM unless it’s finals week, in which every facility is open 24/7.

 

“Is that why I’m here? Because I’m better at the loom than you are?”

 

Bambam smiles guiltily. “ _No_ , you’re just here for, you know, advice!”

 

Jimin snorts. “Right. Of course. Well I’m telling you right now that you don’t have time to be moaning and groaning about the ‘lack of design’ forever – you’ve got less than two weeks, right?” She pinches her nose bridge. “That’s a _ridiculous_ short amount of time. I don’t know why you put this upon yourself.”

 

“I had my reasons, okay?” Bambam sweats at the thought of overzealous fans stalking him and placing threats into his mailbox. Rather than worrying about his own safety, he’s more concerned about Yugyeom. It’s not like he lives alone - if anything were to happen to him, it would inevitably affect Yugyeom too. Bambam already handles his own share of hate on the internet. It’s not unexpected, especially when there are still people out there in the world who think being gay is an insult. “But I don’t want to half-ass it just because I’m on a time crunch – people would go on their _knees_ just to have Jackson wear something of theirs, you know? It’s _big_ publicity. And besides, he deserves the best I can offer. It’s the least I can do.”

 

“I get it,” Jimin nods. “It’s an amazing opportunity. What I _don’t_ get is why you won’t just use one of your old designs.” She sets his sketchbook down and taps her hand on a specific page. “Like this one. Isn’t it perfect for the occasion?”

 

It’s a detailed drawing of a black suit with a white windowpane check in several different poses, annotated with possible textiles to use ranked from best to worst. The dress shirt beneath the blazer is purposefully unbuttoned for a low neckline.

 

Yeah. It definitely would be a good fit for the formal cruise party.

 

“It’s too ambitious,” Bambam tries to sweep the book away from beneath her hands, pulling out the best excuse he can think of on the fly. “I want the shirt in black charmeuse, with inverted black roses. Where am I going to be able to find something like that online, let alone in-store? It’d take forever to ship overseas – and you know I’m the absolute worst at reversing the threads if I make my own. You’ve seen the horrible loops in freshman year.”

 

“…Why are you talking yourself out of this?” Jimin crosses her arms. “And that’s a lie – I know you’ve been practicing weaving. How else were you able to get the gradient on your gowns at the fashion show two months ago?”

 

Well. She got him there.

 

“And my god – a _charmeuse_ dress shirt? For men?” Jimin’s eyes widen in astonishment. “I can’t even name the last time that’s used for menswear. I love it. You definitely need to do this, or I’ll kick your ass.”

 

Bambam purses his lips, curling his fingers into a fist on the table. Logically, he agrees. This design is probably the best he can come up with for the time that he’s given. And if he wants the outfit to look luxurious and not like an amateur fashion student just whipped it up overnight, he’ll have to spend time finessing all the seams and making sure it actually fits Jackson the way he envisioned it.

 

The only thing holding him back is…this was never meant for Jackson.

 

The sketchbook that Jimin is showering with praises is the one Bambam poured all his sudden burst of creativity into after meeting Jaebum nearly a year ago. While Bambam knows now that Jaebum would prefer to wear simpler, classier outfits than his stylish and flashy designs, something still bothers him to have another man fill in Jaebum’s silhouette. Although that thought in itself is just silly, even to Bambam. Clothes are meant to be worn – by anybody. Besides, _Jackson_ is the one paying him right now to come up with something “fabulous,” something that would make all the pretty ladies turn their heads his way (as if they don’t already).

 

Bambam sighs, letting go of his fists and giving in to Jimin’s advice. It’s not like anyone is going to know or care about whom he originally designed this for. “Okay. You’re right. I’ll get started right now.” Bambam pointedly ignores the smug look on Jimin’s face for being right once again (“As I always am!”) as he walks past her to a bundle of raw material he had cast aside an hour ago.

 

The biggest joy out of this whole night ends up being the look on Jimin’s face when he casually lifts up pure white silk into his arms as if it’s cheap yarn. Her eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, and Bambam can’t hold back the taunting grin that stretches across his face. Unwoven silk is a luxury to fashion students like them – nobody can afford to let bumbling students mess up thousands upon _thousands_ of won just for a school project. Jimin, the (future) master of textiles, would kill to have her hands on the raw fiber.

 

“You – _how_ –!” Jimin practically shrieks.

 

“Perhaps Jackson deposited a check to cover the material cost,” Bambam smirks, eyes gleaming.

 

The two of them continue to chatter throughout the night, living on instant coffee from the vending machine and getting the occasional heart attack now and then when they hear a noise from outside. Jimin stays with him for two consecutive nights for the production of his charmeuse, a soft and delicate fabric with a lustrous and expensive sheen. The dyeing process ends up being so easy it’s like a dream. They both marvel at the difference between the natural silk and the synthetic polyester they’re used to working with – which, mostly consists of sneering at the difference in cost.

 

After Bambam manages to finish the black charmeuse with her help, Jimin flutters away with a pat on the back, no longer interested in the rest of production. Bambam can handle it from there.

 

After all –

 

“Ouch,” Bambam hisses, yanking his finger away from the needle. The thread follows his hand, spinning the spool on the sewing machine and ruining the thread guide. The cut fabric falls to the floor while Bambam sucks away the droplet of blood with his mouth.

 

– charmeuse is a bitch to work with.

 

-

 

Bambam can’t be following Jackson all around Asia all the time as his stylist – not while he’s still in college and with a job to boot – so everything leading up to the day Jackson steps onto that ship is just a one-time gig, a decoy to keep a simmering scandal off their backs. Even so, Bambam can’t help but worry about it all week. It’s on the back of his mind even as he completes his shift at work. And he’s normally happy to be called on for a hand at a photo shoot, but now he can’t help but feel anxiety at having time stripped away from working on the suit. He’s on the better end of it now, having finished the wretched black rose dress shirt that tore up his hands and finally moving onto the jacket in fine wool. Others might say that’s hardly any better, but at least Bambam has worked with it enough times to know to be patient with the material. Plus, there’s something oddly satisfying about ironing the final product.

 

Bambam crashes home at 1AM, completely worn down and just sore all over. The shoot was taken at the rocky shores of some remote countryside, and he had been in charge of the wardrobe changes all day. The afternoon was hot, but the evening was drastically cold. He wouldn’t be surprised if he wakes up sick tomorrow – but he better not. He can’t afford to.

 

As usual, the lights in Yugyeom’s room are still on. He sticks his arm through the door and flips the switch off like clockwork as he passes through the hallway, knowing that Yugyeom’s already asleep but afraid of being alone in the dark. Bambam rushes through the shower, sloppily running the soap all over his body before stepping out of the stall still dripping wet. His eyes are nearly shutting permanently for the night even though the cold shower should’ve technically woken him up – he didn’t bother to wait for the water to heat up, after all.

 

The last thought on his mind is that he needs to arrange a fitting with Jackson soon. Maybe they can grab a drink, too. Bambam throws himself on the bed, completely forgetting that he hasn’t replied to any of Jaebum’s texts as he curls into his body pillow.

 

-

 

(It’s fine. They might not have seen each other in a week, or have said anything more than good morning’s or good night’s, but they’re fine.

 

Bambam dreams of him sometimes, and they’re fine in his dreams too. If there were anything in the world for Bambam to believe in, it would be in Jaebum.)

 

-

 

“My _god_ ,” Jackson gushes as he admires himself in the mirror. He turns this way and that, eyeing his own figure up and down with an excited grin. He flips the back of the checked suit jacket up to jut his lower back. “Do you see _that ass_?” Jackson runs his hand over the curvature of his bottom, wiggling his eyebrows at Bambam in the mirror.

 

The question completely goes over Bambam’s head, who actually looks so deep in thought that Jackson momentarily feels embarrassed in his exaggerated pose. Jackson clears his throat and straightens up, choosing to wear the jacket properly now.

 

“How is it?” Bambam bites his nail, worriedly staring at the clothes on Jackson’s back rather than at Jackson himself. “Is it too tight? What about the material – is it scratchy? What kind of shoes are you planning to wear? Do I have to hem the pants higher –!”

 

“Whoa there,” Jackson interjects with wide eyes. “Relax! It’s perfect – I love it. This is stunning, Bam. I look like a star,” he smiles gently, throwing away the loud act and placing a comforting hand on Bambam’s shoulder. Inwardly, he wonders if Bambam is this anxious when it comes to his work. It’s probably the perfectionist in him making its rare surface.

 

“I don’t know…” and Bambam sweeps his eyes over Jackson again with a furrow in his brow. Is that a loose thread right there or is the two hours of sleep catching up to him? Before Bambam can inch in closer for an inspection, Jackson reels him in for a tight hug that surprisingly manages to break his concentration.

 

“You’re _amazing_!”

 

Bambam blinks rapidly, confused where the compliment is coming from.

 

“You really didn’t have to give me a _custom_ design! I was just expecting you to arrange me a fit from Gucci or something.”

 

Bambam frowns. “Of course I’m doing this for you – you paid me a lot,” he jokes, patting Jackson’s back.

 

“I didn’t think you could come up with this,” Jackson says with genuine wonder. And, yeah, perhaps that’s a bit backhanded, but Jackson looks so amazed that Bambam can’t find any offense in his words. He slowly smiles, letting the relief of a satisfied customer wash over him in comforting waves. “I know you’re talented, but I didn’t know you could make suits too.”

 

“I’ve got way more tricks up my sleeve than just that fashion show, hyung.”

 

“Clearly!” Jackson finally breaks the hug, but keeping Bambam close enough to stare into his eyes. “Why aren’t _you_ famous yet?”

 

Bambam laughs shyly, looking away. “Please, I’ve got a long way to go. I’m practically a baby in this industry.”

 

“Well damn, if no one sponsors your own line in the future, _I_ will. My team is going to go nuts over this. There’s a noona amongst my regular stylists who will probably cry upon seeing me pick something that’s not a tracksuit…which are great, by the way.”

 

Bambam stares tiredly at the worn yellow tracksuit on top of Jackson’s bed as they speak. He could probably relate on a personal level with that noona. “Well, I hope they like it too.”

 

“Oh, they’re gonna,” Jackson nods excitedly. He flips up the jacket again, repeating the action that was previously ignored. “Have you seen my ass in these pants?”

 

Bambam laughs, “Yeah, yeah, it’s a work of art, hyung.”

 

“But how did you know? You measured me very roughly like _once_.”

 

“It’s the designer hands,” Bambam wiggles his hands for good measure.

 

“Bet you know all of Jaebum hyung’s measurements, then,” Jackson sends him a shit-eating grin.

 

Bambam promptly splutters – “ _Hyung_!” Jackson throws his head back to laugh gleefully. “I thought we agreed not to talk about such things!”

 

“What do you mean?” Jackson feigns innocence. “ _Someone’s_ got their mind in the gutter.” He doesn’t even bother to avoid the swat of Bambam’s hand coming his way. “So it’s true! You do know.”

 

“I –!” Bambam starts but bites down the rest of the sentence, heat rising to his cheeks. So maybe he does know. But he’s going to sound like such a creep for possessing that kind of information when he’s never even given Jaebum a fitting before, let alone sew something for him to wear. He’s just – not there yet. His work isn’t good enough for Jaebum to wear at this moment, and Bambam only wants to give Jaebum his best. Unfortunately, the best version of him probably isn’t ready until far in the future. He doesn’t have the confidence now to allow for comparison between him and the terrifyingly luxurious names in Jaebum’s wardrobe. “…And what about it?” Bambam huffs.

 

“Nothing,” Jackson sings, a mischievous smile stretching across his face.

 

Bambam pulls a face at him before leaving the room for Jackson to change out of the suit and into something more inconspicuous. They’re due for a quick dinner together at a noodle stall to hang out and get the much-deserved time to relax. Bambam is just glad he won’t have to be anywhere near a sewing machine soon.

 

He splays out his hands in front of himself, looking over the healing cuts and callouses. They’ve seen better days.

 

“Ready to go?”

 

Bambam pulls his sleeves down and looks up with half a smile. “Yep.”

 

They get loud and rowdy at the restaurant as Jackson bemoans about not tasting real food in _weeks_. Apparently being driven around from schedule to schedule means that his manager can only spare time to grab him pre-packaged lunchboxes at the closest convenience store. It’s a mere stroke of luck that they end up seated at the corner of the shop, where they’ll be less disruptive for other customers. (Though, as Jackson’s hyena laughter rips through the tiny establishment and turns all heads their way, it’s tough to say whether the secluded seats help at all.)

 

“Say, since you’re so good at this, have you made anything for Jaebum hyung before?” Jackson asks out of curiosity.

 

Mildly surprised, Bambam honestly replies, “No…I guess I never really got the opportunity to?”

 

“No?” Jackson gasps. “You mean, I got a whole outfit before he did?”

 

Bambam shrugs. “Yeah?”

 

“Hm.” Jackson hums thoughtfully. They continue digging into their noodles for a moment and Bambam keeps one eye out for the waiter’s attention to get a refill on pickled radishes. “That’s interesting.”

 

“What is?” Bambam asks absent-mindedly.

 

“I think Jaebum hyung might get a little jealous,” he says, seemingly, out of nowhere. Now, this is shocking enough for Bambam to forget about his need for pickled radishes. He turns his full attention to Jackson, who’s just slurping away at his bowl as if he didn’t just drop something serious. Bambam raises his eyebrows and leans forward against the table.

 

“ _Jealous_?” Bambam repeats incredulously. “Of _what?_ Why would hyung get jealous?”

 

Jackson continues chewing, doesn’t look at Bambam as he reveals, “He might not like you doing all of this for me.”

 

“What?” Bambam frowns. “What’s not to like? This is my job…”

 

Jackson pauses, glancing up into Bambam’s eyes and then looking back down again. “…Yeah, you’re right. Never mind,” he says carefully.

 

“Is there something I don’t know about?”

 

Jackson thinks of the dark, heavy set of eyes on him from so many nights before – thinks of the way Jaebum had clenched his jaw and stared at him with such disdain it startled the both of them to realize what that look meant. And while shame had quickly drawn up Jaebum’s face, it didn’t hurt Jackson any less to witness the momentary yet revealing look of distrust. It made Jackson wonder, once more, whether Jaebum considered him as much of a friend as Jackson regarded Jaebum.

 

(It made him wonder, if Jaebum saw right through him too.)

 

“No, sorry. I was just overthinking it.”

 

“…Alright.”

 

Although still confused, Bambam lets the topic drop as Jackson noticeably steers their conversation into a different direction, breaking into an anecdote about a really funny NG a co-actor made the other day. Bambam humors him with noncommittal hums, preoccupied and bothered by the thought of Jaebum being jealous, until he hears something of real interest.

 

“Wait – did you just say Kim Wonjoong is going to be there?” Bambam nearly chokes on his water.

 

Jackson snorts, “ _That’s_ what gets your attention?”

 

“Hey! I was listening,” Bambam pouts. He leans in closer. “But like…you know him? He’s co-CEO of 87MM,” Bambam breathes out the last sentence in wonder. For a brief second, he fantasizes about starting up his own company too – maybe when he’s older.

 

Jackson smiles at Bambam, watching the sparkle in his eyes with amusement. “We’re acquaintances. I’ve only said hi once or twice. What, you admire him or something?”

 

“Of course I do!” Bambam nods, emphasizing the statement with jabs of his chopsticks. “He’s only 31 and he’s got such a successful clothing line!”

 

“‘ _Only_ ’ 31?” Jackson snorts. “You call me and Jaebum hyung old for being 29 but he’s ‘ _only_ ’ 31.”

 

“It’s different.” Bambam defends his food from Jackson’s chopsticks poking at his slice of meat. “That’s _young_ in fashion. More often than not, designers don’t make a name for themselves until they’re like 40. Only geniuses nowadays get to do anything in their twenties.”

 

“ _Jesus._ Forty? That’s the settling-down-with-two-kids age. I would’ve thought fashion was short-lived – you know, with it shoving beauty standards to the youth and all,” Jackson says with an eye roll.

 

Bambam chuckles at the dark but valid statement. “True. But that’s more the case for models; designers need to spend their lifetime building an empire to be a somebody nowadays.” He takes a drink of water before continuing. “Anyway, I think it’d be funny to see Kim Wonjoong’s reaction if I were to tell him I rejected a position at his company.”

 

Bambam’s face morphs into delight at the same time Jackson’s does, already anticipating the exact reaction from him. Jackson squeals while Bambam quickly blurts out a bunch of just kidding’s midst his embarrassed laughter from the cocky statement.

 

“ _No_ , you _did not_!” Jackson gasps.

 

“Just kidding! I mean – I doubt he even knows about it. I’m sure there’s somebody lower down in the hierarchy who manages all the employment stuff.”

 

“Still – I’d _love_ to see you do this. Say, why don’t you come on the cruise, too? I’ll write you in as my plus one.”

 

Bambam freezes, staring up widely at Jackson with his cheeks full. Gradually, his mouth opens in bewilderment.

 

“Okay, don’t do that,” Jackson makes a face of disgust as he pushes Bambam’s chin up.

 

Bambam struggles to swallow everything in his mouth at once, downing the rest of his water and slamming the cup down. “ _What_? Hyung! Stop! You always do this – casually dropping all these big offers as if it’s not going to completely change my life _oh my god_.”

 

“Psh,” Jackson waves his hand in the air. “Don’t be dramatic. It’s just another rich guy’s party, not some classy event.”

 

“Jackson…it’s on a one day, two-night cruise ship with more than a few hundred guests…tabloids have been calling it the party of the year for two years in a row.”

 

“Yeah, well, the host – Seungri – literally invites everyone, even people he doesn’t know or like. I bet Jaebum hyung’s somewhere on his list too.”

 

“Jaebum hyung?” Bambam raises his eyebrows. “He didn’t tell me he was invited.”

 

Jackson seems amused, but not surprised. “I bet he didn’t even know he was invited - I wouldn’t put it past him to shove Seungri’s contacts into his spam box or let Jinyoung decide whether he _has_ to be there or not. He’s never liked socializing with that kind of crowd anyway.”

 

“Oh,” Bambam nods slowly. It’s true. Bambam can’t ever recall Jaebum letting loose and being himself at these formal events. It’s especially true because Bambam has never seen Jaebum unleash that ugly dinosaur laugh of his underneath chandeliers and a glass of wine. “That makes sense. What’s your reason for going then?”

 

“My management thinks it’ll be a good opportunity for me to kiss up to this film director and make an impression - land another role.”

 

“So, networking.”

 

“Precisely,” Jackson looks at Bambam pointedly, chewing on a pickled radish. “But also for the seafood buffet.”

 

“Damn.”

 

“They’ve got endless crab legs.”

 

“ _Damn._ ”

 

“And the fireworks are _lit_.”

 

Bambam furrows his eyebrows.

 

“Oh. Is that not how you use that term?”

 

“I think fireworks are a bit too literal to be using that.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Well anyway, you can see how Jaebum hyung won’t like it – it’s literally a 24/7 party with some shady handshaking in an empty hallway.” Jackson wipes his mouth on a napkin. They finish up their meal and pay for it quickly, but the conversation about the cruise continues throughout the walk to the car and then, throughout the drive.

 

“Jaebum hyung wouldn’t go to network – he _is_ the network,” Bambam realizes with a laugh. “That must be so annoying for him.”

 

“Yeah. Hard not to be the center of attention when you’ve got a trillion won conglomerate at your fingertips.”

 

“Hm,” Bambam smiles and then looks out the window. He watches cars whizz by for a moment, struck again by how big of a person Jaebum is. Every time he thinks he’s just getting used to it or beginning to normalize it, something has to remind him that nothing about Jaebum can ever be normal.

 

Speaking of Jaebum – “Oh shit,” Bambam gasps, fumbling to pull his phone out of his pocket. Jackson spares him a glance, but otherwise mostly keeps his eyes on the road. Bambam is hit with a rush of horror when he realizes he _never_ replied to Jaebum today – or last night either. He fell asleep, went to work, met up with Jackson and just...forgot. Completely. It doesn’t help that his phone has been on silent. “Oh my god _ohmygod_.”

 

“What?”

 

“I forgot to text Jaebum hyung back!” Bambam’s heart drops at the guilty sight of new unread messages.

 

“Just text him back.”

 

“I know, I know. I’m doing that right now.” Bambam punches rapidly at the keyboard, as if that makes up for the hours of no response. Then, he scrolls up to glance at the older messages – “Oh _no_.” He stares sadly at his phone.

 

“What now?”

 

“I feel so bad,” Bambam says weakly. “He said he made dinner.” Two hours ago.

 

“Oh boy,” Jackson sympathizes. “I can’t believe he has time to cook. I always get so tired after work I end up settling for ramen.”

 

“Right?” Bambam sinks into his seat. “He doesn’t normally have time – he _makes_ time for me. I feel so bad.”

 

“It’s okay, you didn’t know.”

 

“Can you drop me off at his place?”

 

“Sure thing.”

 

They have to turn around in order to make the trip since Jackson was initially heading towards Bambam’s apartment. Meanwhile, Bambam spams Jaebum with a bunch of apologies, promising to make it up to him and that he’s going to the condo as they speak. Although it’s hard to tell through a screen, Jaebum doesn’t seem to be too mad about it.

 

**Jaebum hyung**

[Fri, Sept. 1, 8:01PM]

okay

nora and I will wait for you ^^

 

Bambam could cry. Jaebum is so cute.

 

**me**

[Fri, Sept. 1, 8:02PM]

ㅠㅠㅠㅠ

zipping thru traffic!!

sorry hyung

 

Ten minutes and multiple speeding yellow lights later, Jackson circles around the loop in front of the entrance and hits the emergency lights as he sets the gear to park. Bambam throws him a grateful hug and hops out of the passenger’s seat.

 

“I’ll be sure to sneak you in!” Jackson pretends to whisper as he reminds Bambam of the date of the cruise. There’s even a wink for extra measure. The ship sets sail right before sunset – for ambiance, he claims. “Pack lightly!”

 

“Thank you – for everything, seriously!” Bambam whisper-yells back, almost tempted to dive back into the car for another hug. And with that, Bambam flies up the steps and barges through the glass doors. The only thing slowing him down is the receptionist – who isn’t surprised or suspicious of his presence anymore. But she still makes him go through the ID check for the sake of customs, especially since it looks like her boss is looking over her shoulder.

 

Midst the elevator ride up to the sky, his feelings of guilt and anxiousness turn into mostly excitement – he really, _really_ hasn’t seen Jaebum in _forever_ and just the thought of running into his arms and melting into the warmth is enough to make the past week feel worth it. He’s honestly sick of being cooped up in the sewing room or at his desk at work. And then there’s Nora too, whom Bambam has become so attached with now that perhaps he really is trying to become her new favorite human. Suddenly, he feels kind of dumb for being so antsy just a moment ago. To his knowledge, it takes a lot to get Jaebum mad… and even then he’ll probably just talk it out the way he does with everything else. Jaebum can look mean – but Bambam has never seen him lose it. (Though it’s not like Bambam is going to royally fuck up on purpose just to test it.)

 

Right when the door is about to beep in confirmation of his fingerprint, Jaebum swings the door wide open with Bambam’s hand still hanging in midair. Instead of a high-pitched beeping to greet him at the entrance, what he gets is a big smile and tug of his wrist to send him crashing into Jaebum’s chest. The weight of Jaebum’s physique nearly drowns him right then and there, solid and warm and making his steps falter as they move backwards into a wall. But Bambam’s not afraid of falling, not afraid of laughing and keeping his eyes solely on Jaebum because there’s no need to seek security on the ground when Jaebum’s got him so secure around his hips. Bambam mitigates some of the hard work by circling his legs around Jaebum and only relaxes his grip when his back hits the wall. He can’t help the happiness from bubbling out of him in endless giggles though – not unless Jaebum stops nuzzling at his neck, hair tickling at his chin.  

 

Jaebum wastes no time kissing up the column of his neck, breaking into a brief and eager smile as he captures Bambam’s lips with his own. The tension in his shoulders melts away like magic as he sinks into the softness, relieved and thrilled to feel Bambam reciprocate with equal fervor. It’s one thing to be separated by distance, but it’s another to be separated by conflicting schedules. Jaebum would argue that it’s much more frustrating like this – to be so close yet still not being able to be together.

 

Jaebum tilts his head, inwardly sighing. He could spend forever like this, drinking in the sweet taste between Bambam’s lips.

 

They break off slowly, lingering on each other until the warm air becomes too much.

 

“Why… _hello_ ,” Bambam smiles, biting his bottom lip to suppress another giggle at the ridiculousness of it all. Leave it to Jaebum to prioritize kissing the daylights out of him over a simple greeting.

 

Jaebum chuckles. “Hi baby,” he murmurs. And he kisses him again. “Missed you.”

 

“ _Mm_ ,” Bambam hums, feeling Jaebum’s tongue on his. “…Me too,” he manages to squeeze out between the pauses.

 

Jaebum pulls them away from the wall, carrying Bambam across the living room in sure but blind steps. Nora scurries away and looks at them with disdain when Jaebum barely misses stepping on her tail – this is just outright betrayal.

 

“Where…” Jaebum begins, but catches the sight of Bambam’s glistening red lips and then he doesn’t get very far with his sentence from there. Bambam laughs, eyes squeezing into little moons as Jaebum merely bumps into his teeth. They fall onto the couch with very little finesse, letting out grunts as Bambam awkwardly lands on the cushions while Jaebum gets a more unfortunate meeting between his shin and the wooden part of the arm. “ _Ow_.” He peels himself away from between Bambam’s legs to clutch at what is definitely a forming bruise. Anyway, it gives them the much-needed distance to start a proper conversation.

 

“You okay?” Bambam asks as he sits up, reaching over to lay a hand over Jaebum’s.

 

“Yeah – yeah…I got too excited.”

 

“At least you know your shortcomings,” Bambam teases with a sugary voice.

 

Jaebum narrows his eyes, frowning ever so slightly until he breaks their eye contact by flicking Bambam’s hand away.

 

“Ah! Aw, _hyung_ ,” Bambam whines, pouting and clutching his hurt hand.

 

“Serves you right. Don’t get too cheeky, brat.” Jaebum crosses his arms. Bambam deepens his pout, staring up at Jaebum with big sad eyes until Jaebum gives in (quickly) with a heavy sigh. There’s a small smile on his lips as he takes Bambam’s hand with the intention of kissing the inflicted spot in apology, but it wipes off his face when he sees exactly how rough the hand is. A worried wrinkle forms between his brows as he inspects the callouses only to find smaller scabs littered around his forefinger. “What happened?”

 

“Oh –!” Bambam purses his lips and attempts to pull his hand away. “Just work stuff. It happens all the time, don’t worry.”

 

“No, it’s not. I don’t remember you getting hurt like this when you brought over all those dresses.”

 

“That’s because most of them were hand sewn; I’m forced to pay more attention that way.” Bambam scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. “I get sleepy on a machine late at night…and I wasn’t used to working with this particular fabric.”

 

“Are they allowed to overwork you like this?” Jaebum frowns.

 

It comes to Bambam’s attention then that he never got the chance to tell Jaebum what he’s been doing. Sometimes it’s hard to keep track of what he has or hasn’t told someone due to the sheer amount of people he has to repeat the information to. He wonders if he’s been _that_ out of touch with his Jaebum and his friends lately, which doesn’t settle well on his stomach. “No…wow, I can’t believe it’s completely slipped my mind to keep you updated. I’ve been working on an outfit for Jackson!”

 

Jaebum freezes. “Jackson?”

 

“Yeah, Jackson hyung!” Bambam smiles, shaking their linked hands excitedly. “It’s a long story, but he commissioned me to design something for him to wear at Lee Seungri’s cruise ship party. It was pretty short notice so I had to get on it as quickly as I could.”

 

“So you got these because of him?”

 

Bambam looks up at Jaebum, only to find a strangely blank expression. That’s...a weird way to word it. “What? No? I was just crashing on sugar and caffeine so it made me careless.”

 

“He should’ve asked you earlier.”

 

“Yeah, well…it was spontaneous.”

 

“And you still did it, knowing it was a bad idea?”

 

“I _had_ to. I was at his hotel when I saw pictures of me picking him up at the airport and he thought –!”

 

“You were at his _hotel_?”

 

“Uhm – yes,” Bambam confirms. He shifts in his seat to sit up straighter, suddenly feeling uncomfortable with Jaebum’s tone. It’s – cold and accusatory. For some reason. “It was late so I slept over –!”

 

“You –!”

 

“On the couch!” Bambam clarifies swiftly. Somehow, he was able to predict what Jaebum was going to be caught up on. “I was on the couch for the night, or actually morning, because it was late.” Jaebum stays quiet, so Bambam continues explaining. “Anyway, Jackson hyung thought it would be a good idea to get his fans and the paparazzi off my back if I had a real excuse for hanging out with him – like being his stylist or designer. Plus, it looks good on my portfolio. I can’t deny _that_.”

 

Jaebum nods slowly, waiting a few seconds before he smiles at Bambam. “I see. Do you want water? I picked out a good movie you might like tonight.”

 

“Oh, yeah – thank you, hyung,” Bambam nods quickly, watching Jaebum as he gets up and walks over to the kitchen. When Jaebum falls out of sight, Bambam slumps into the couch with a relieved sigh. Then, he promptly feels confused. Why was there tension around that conversation? And why was Jaebum acting so strange?

 

A blur of tan fur in his peripheral vision diverts his attention to the love chair on his left. There, Nora kneads on a bundle of a soft gray blanket, looking fiercely concentrated with her blue eyes. Bambam snorts at the sight and leans over, grabbing at a piece of the blanket and yanking it over to his side. Nora follows the blanket, even prancing on the back of the couch to reach where Bambam had attempted to take it away.

 

“What,” Bambam tuts, “are you not going to greet me? After all I’ve done for you?”

 

Of course, he’s ignored.

 

Bambam clicks his tongue in disappointment, wrapping the blanket over his shoulders and lifting Nora into his lap. “If you won’t love me, I will.” He stubbornly pets her head, vying got her attention until she finally stops fussing around and settles into his belly with soft purrs. Satisfied, Bambam relaxes with the ball of fur beneath his hands and lifts his head up to take a good look at the room for the first time.

 

He can tell Jaebum had been really expecting him. For one, there’s a blanket here that usually isn’t present for all the days that he’s been lazing around on. The ceiling lights are much dimmer, allowing for all the candles Jaebum had lit up to take on a special glow. And true to word, there’s a movie paused on its title screen on the television just waiting to be played. Everything is perfectly set up for a good cuddling session. The guilt from before sneaks up on him and knocks on his conscience again. Bambam wishes he knew Jaebum made plans for them earlier.

 

Right when Bambam is about to wonder what’s taking Jaebum so long, he appears with two chilled water bottles – and a tub of butter popcorn.

 

“You’ve eaten, right? I hope you still have an appetite for popcorn.”

 

“God, who _doesn’t_ have an appetite for popcorn?” Bambam’s eyes light up, making grabby hands at the tub. “We should put sugar on it!”

 

“Sugar?” Jaebum’s face twists, skeptical of the suggestion.

 

“Yeah, have you tried it? I remember Changkyun doing it once and it was just like kettle corn – but salty. And good. Sweet and salty.”

 

They do try it, after Jaebum settles in and swings an arm around Bambam to pull him close, accepting the side of the blanket that Bambam offers up to him. Meanwhile, Bambam spends an awful amount of time dousing the popcorn in sugar and giving it a good mix. Jaebum continues to watch the dubious concoction even after he’s hit play on the screen, only leaning in to give a piece a try because Bambam’s holding it out for him on his fingertips with expectation.

 

And then – “Oh my god,” Jaebum says with wonder.

 

“Right?” Bambam smiles proudly as Jaebum digs in…and continues to keep digging in. “What have you been up to, hyung?”

 

“A lot,” Jaebum admits with a sigh. “You’d think being the CEO’s son would make the inheritance easier but I’ve never seen more papers in my life.”

 

“Ugh,” Bambam sympathizes. “Bet you can’t even skip the fine print.”

 

Jaebum nods. “And I’ve been under hot fire recently with the board. Not many are in my favor.”

 

“What!” Bambam says heatedly. Who could hate Jaebum? “Why?”

 

“I said I wanted to raise the minimum wage.” Bambam stares at him in awe. The movie continues rolling without either of them watching. “It’s obvious why it’s an unpopular proposal; it cuts into our profits. But I think it’s the right thing to do.”

 

“Well…I think so, too. That’s very kind of you, hyung. You’re amazing.”

 

“I haven’t done anything,” Jaebum laughs to conceal his embarrassment. “It’s still just an idea - implementing it will be a whole other challenge.”

 

“There's no way a man like you will just throw ideas around without a near guaranteed plan, right?”

 

“…Maybe so,” Jaebum smiles widely, wiggling his eyebrows. Bambam sends him a knowing look and plants a fat smooch on his cheek before curling up into his side.

 

“How sexy of you, making power moves and rattling up all these old men like that.”

 

Jaebum simply laughs into his fist as if there's a bigger joke he hasn't let Bambam in on yet. It makes Bambam smile too, knowing that things are going well for Jaebum despite all these complaints about how busy he's been. They quiet down a little, and Bambam's heart skips a beat when Jaebum laces their fingers together and presses a soft kiss on his forehead. He likes the fact that Jaebum had lowered the temperature on the air conditioning specifically for this: cuddling on the couch with a soft, warm blanket, tangled legs propped up comfortably on the coffee table, and Nora on their laps.

 

It's like they're a little family.

 

Bambam blushes to himself at that thought, toes curling in. He sneaks a glance upwards at Jaebum, hoping he won't see. When he looks back at the TV, Bambam still has no idea what the movie is about.

 

“By the way…I’m sorry I didn’t make it to dinner. I wasn’t checking my phone because it was on silent,” Bambam explains, hoping Jaebum’s feelings weren’t hurt by the empty seat.

 

“Oh, it’s okay. I was trying to surprise you but I guess I should’ve checked if you were free. You can take it home tomorrow – it’s spicy seafood noodles. You like that, don’t you?”

 

Bambam perks up at the information, amused. “What a coincidence! Hyung, I had that for dinner too.”

 

“Oh,” Jaebum seems to find it funny as well. “Was it at that place you've been wanting to go to?”

 

“Mhm,” Bambam nods. “I went with Jackson. It was really good.”

 

“...Ah.”

 

“I really like their radishes there. Anyway, Jackson hyung was telling me about the parties and how a lot of my seniors in the industry are going to be there. He promised to take me with him next week! I’m really excited but also really scared because he’s going to be the only one I know.”

 

“Wait a minute,” Jaebum says as he moves from their comfortable position together and even lifts Nora to the side. “You’re going with him where?”

 

“To the cruise, hosted by Lee Seungri.”

 

“Of Hyundai Motors?” Jaebum asks with a glower, as if it pained him to even be thinking about the guy. “I don’t like him,” he reveals with surprising bluntness, causing Bambam’s eyes to widen a little. He’s never heard Jaebum just flat out dislike someone like that. He might as well have said that Seungri was his lifelong enemy. “He’s bad news.”

 

Stunned, Bambam can only offer a weak compromise. “I’ll stay away from him?”

 

“No – it’s not a good idea to be anywhere near him. Bam, I don’t feel comfortable with you being alone there.”

 

“I’ll be with Jackson,” Bambam tries to reason, but feels lost when that seems to worsen Jaebum’s mood.

 

“You can’t trust Jackson all the time,” Jaebum says tightly. Bambam swallows thickly, feeling his hands run cold when Jaebum clutches his wrist tightly. “He can’t always be there for you – people will be expecting him to be there to entertain. It’s what he’s known for, and he won’t be able to get you or him out of sticky situations. He has too much of a social reputation to uphold.”

 

“But…”

 

“Listen, it’s not as fun and innocent as it seems.”

 

“…Okay,” Bambam looks down.

 

Things fall silent between them, and Bambam stays rigid in his seat. After a while, Jaebum leans back on the couch and Bambam hesitantly crawls over to resume their previous positions. They stare at the actors in the movie, and Bambam is simply glad there is something for him to look at. He pretends not to feel Jaebum’s gaze on him from above, but his fingers unconsciously reach for the hem of his shirt, scratching at the seams.

 

Jaebum’s eyes follow the movement. He clenches his teeth, apologetic. He knows what it means when Bambam does that.

 

“If you really want to go, I’ll come with you.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“I’m sorry if I scared you; I made it sound pretty bad. It’s really not.”

 

“Okay.” After a moment, Bambam grabs his phone and quickly slides through his contacts to tap on Jackson’s name. It would probably be a good idea to tell him that Bambam won’t need his invitation anymore –

 

“Hey.” Jaebum gently lowers Bambam’s hand on his phone, grabbing his attention. Despite the small smile, the anxious look in his eyes astonishes Bambam. “Let’s watch this, together.”

 

“Oh! Sorry.” Bambam nearly throws his phone off the couch with how fast he flings the offending object. He doesn’t regret it though, because Jaebum looks better afterwards. He lets Jaebum kiss him, and the night rolls by peacefully.

 

But later on, Bambam can’t shake off the feeling that he somehow managed to royally fuck up after all.

 

-

 

It's game night for Jimin and the boys tonight at Yugyeom and Bambam’s apartment, only everyone except Minghao is late. Even Yugyeom is late and it’s _his_ house. This leaves Bambam alone in his room with a snappy and fuming Chinese man who is threatening to dropkick the entire group the moment they arrive. Bambam thinks he's just hungry.

 

“I _thought_ we agreed to meet up at five.”

 

“Yeah...well...stuff happens,” Bambam says, shrinking back when Minghao sends him The Glare. Maybe he should open up his secret stash of honey butter chips now before his life is taken from him. “At least they didn’t leave us on read.”

 

“ _Ugh_ , first Mingyu and now all of you,” Minghao huffs before throwing himself flat on Bambam's bed like it's his. The complaint warrants a raised eyebrow from Bambam - now it sounds like Minghao was already mad at his new boyfriend Mingyu before coming here, which set him off even further when they were all supposed to be here to take his mind off of whatever just happened. Anyway, Bambam is just amazed that Minghao and Mingyu became a thing so quick – Minghao has always boasted about his “high standards for men” and how no one but himself deserves to date him. (“Narcissist!” Changkyun bellows.) Bambam always had a feeling that it was just a front he put up, but it’s still surprising to see it crumble so easily.

 

Bambam’s also a little salty no one dared to pester the two unlike the way the group did to him about Jaebum. Is he that easy of a target?

 

“Don’t do that,” Minghao narrows his eyes, breaking Bambam out of his thoughts.

 

“Do what?”

 

“ _That_.” Minghao points to Bambam’s pout. “It’s disgusting, I don’t want to see it.”

 

“You’re so mean,” Bambam fakes a sniffle. “Now get off my bed.”

“No.”

 

“Don't make me lie on top of you.”

 

“Don't make me kick your balls.”

 

“Don’t make me tell you in detail what Jaebum hyung did to me on that very bed.”

 

“ _Jesus_ ,” Minghao hisses as he throws himself off the bed like it’s on fire, pulling a face at where he once was with absolute horror. Bambam celebrates his victory with a cackle and bounces over, happily landing on the squeaky springs of his mattress. “I liked it better when you kept him a secret.”

 

Bambam laughs, and a small part of him is glad that they’ve all reached a point where they can joke about that ridiculous fight from months ago. “I don't know, I'm kind of into this transparency between us.” He cocks an eyebrow. “Therefore, you owe me everything that went down on how Mingyu managed to sweep you off your feet.”

 

Minghao scoffs, “It wasn't anything special.” He picks at the dirt beneath his nails, avoiding Bambam's gaze. “He asked me to be his boyfriend, and I said he's lucky I'm feeling charitable.”

 

Bambam wheezes. What a typical Minghao thing to say. “Did you really say that?” He asks anyway. His heart fills with warmth though - for some strange reason, the meaner Minghao is to someone, the more affection he has for them. It's his weird way of expressing his concern for others, even if it comes out the wrong way. The group is used to all of this, of course, but they all know it can be hard for others to accept this about Minghao, which makes it even harder for Minghao to let anyone new into his heart. Thus, Bambam is both honored and offended that Minghao is such an asshole to him. It's complicated.

 

“Uh, yeah?” Minghao frowns at the obvious question. “Whatever, I'm hungry, when are bowl-head one and bowl-head two coming?”

 

“Yugyeom and Jungkook said they need to wait for Changkyun to finish his shift.”

 

“And Jimin?”

 

“Getting her acrylics removed so she can smash the controller better.”

 

Minghao pauses. “Well, shit.” Jimin's serious. He should coerce Changkyun into a bet somehow and make sure he's on Jimin's team.

 

Bambam ends up digging into his secret stash after all when ten minutes pass by and Minghao’s stomach grumbles midst the silence. Minghao doesn't even have to look up from his phone to catch the bag of chips thrown his way. Bambam thinks it's kind of creepy. Like he's got an eye on his forehead hidden under those bangs.

 

“Thanks.” He's generous enough to let Bambam steal half a chip.

 

Bambam nibbles on his half-chip, staring at the back of Minghao’s head from where he's sitting on the edge of the bed. Bambam has been…thinking about that night with Jaebum for the past two days. Even though there's nothing _wrong_ with them per say, Bambam just can't get over the weird vibes from Jaebum after he mentioned the cruise trip with Jackson. Or maybe the tension started before that, when he saw the now healed cuts on his hands from the sewing machine. Bambam can't figure out what has Jaebum feeling so uneasy, but he's too afraid to ask Jaebum himself. He's afraid that the answer is going to be him.

 

“What,” Minghao demands rather than asking.

 

“What?” Bambam echoes in confusion.

 

“I can feel you thinking from here, so what is it?”

 

My god. Minghao has an eye on the back of his head too. “I just want another chip,” Bambam fibs, caught off-guard. Minghao side-eyes him, but doesn't do much else. And then, suddenly, he tilts the opening of the bag towards Bambam. It’s a clear invitation to come over, if Bambam has ever seen one.

 

Bambam drops down to the floor, crawling over to where Minghao continues to scroll through the trending topics on Naver and meekly putting his hand into the oily bag.

 

“Oh my god, _hurry up,_ you act like I’m going to bite you or some shit.”

 

His hand zips out like lightning - with a chip, of course. “Can I help it? You _did_ once.”

 

“That was a long time ago.”

 

“You still bit me!”

 

“I was drunk and you probably did something to deserve it. Apparently I didn’t even bite hard enough to leave marks.”

 

“But,” Bambam clutches his chest. “You left me with severe emotional _trauma_.” Minghao rolls his eyes. “That stuff doesn’t heal overnight.”

 

After a beat, Bambam draws his knees in and clears his throat. “So. Can you…promise not to tell Yugyeom?”

 

Minghao stops everything and looks up. That already doesn’t sound good. “Depends.”

 

“I just don’t want to worry him – he’s pretty busy lately, you know? A competition’s coming up.”

 

“What’s so bad that you’ll keep things from _Yugyeom_?” Minghao says in exasperation. The thought of those two keeping secrets is just unfathomable.

 

“It’s about Jaebum hyung.” Minghao’s eyes narrow into dangerous slits, and Bambam immediately crosses his arms into an ‘x’ to dispel any misunderstandings. “He didn’t hurt me! I just – I feel like I did something wrong and I can feel the beginning of a strain in our relationship but I have no idea what’s causing it. And I don’t want to ask…”

 

Minghao spends a minute to study Bambam’s genuinely worried face and lets out a deep sigh, setting everything on hand aside and turning his body to give him his full attention. “…Alright, you’re going to have to give me more than that.”

 

Bambam hesitates – he doesn’t know exactly how far back he has to confess before he can get any advice from Minghao. Would it be worth it?

 

“We’ll keep this between us,” Minghao looks at him meaningfully.

 

“…Okay.”

 

So Bambam spills everything from the heart, summarizing from the beginning and trying to keep the story objective even as Minghao makes disgruntled noises in between. He starts from where it all went downhill – and incredibly complicated. He tells Minghao about Jinyoung and the brief confrontation they had before arriving at the gala that had him exposed. He tells Minghao about the picture with Jackson at the party in Hong Kong Fashion Week, and how they eventually became such close friends. He tells him about how that very picture would be the cause of his and Jaebum’s first fight, the cause of his latest set of tears.

 

But as the story continues, Bambam becomes increasingly aware of how the story becomes less about him and more about the tangled web between Jaebum, Jinyoung, and Jackson. Somehow, he’s become something like an unsuspecting bystander caught in the crossfire.

 

“I can’t say much about Jinyoung – but there’s something strange about Jackson and Jaebum hyung,” Bambam frowns. “They both claim to be old best friends…but there’s like, this underlying bitterness that seeps out of them when I talk about one to the other for too long. I feel like it has a lot to do with their past, though it’s not really my business to pry and interfere.” Except. It’s starting to affect Bambam too.

 

“Let me get this straight,” Minghao puts a hand up to stop Bambam from continuing. “This ‘Jinyoung’ dated your Jaebum hyung eight years ago, but broke up for whatever reason.” Bambam nods. “And Jackson liked him.” Nod. “But they never got together and then he thought _you_ were cheating with both of them and ratted you out to Jaebum and now you can’t do anything alone with Jackson without Jaebum being unnecessarily jealous.”

 

Bambam blinks owlishly at Minghao. “ _Jealous_?” His voice rises with incredulity.

 

“That’s exactly what it is, isn’t it?”

 

“No…” But this isn’t the first time someone has pointed that out to him.

 

“That’s exactly what it is,” Minghao repeats with finality. He exhales loudly, ending with a deep-set frown. “And it’s incredibly unhealthy.”

 

“Is it really?” Bambam wonders aloud. “Maybe I’m the problem. Do you think I’m being annoying? And nosy?”

 

“What?”

 

“Like I said, it’s not really my business what happened in the past.”

 

“It sure fucking _is_ if they keep affecting you like this with what’s supposedly _their_ problems. And the only thing annoying about you is you making excuses for Jaebum’s insecurity.”

 

Bambam’s face twists, slightly offended. “That’s not it.”

 

“Then explain why he doesn’t trust you enough to think you’ll have eyes for others.”

 

What he hears – makes him sick. Bambam knows Minghao isn’t one to sugarcoat anything but it’s starting to hurt him to think that his relationship with Jaebum isn’t as good as he thought it was. Or at least, it’s not as good as it could be. “I don’t _know_ why he doesn’t trust me. I’ve already explained it to him months ago that I would only ever want to be with him, that I’m as devoted as he is with me.”

 

“Fair enough,” Minghao hums. Then, “But have told him how you feel?”

 

“What?” Bambam asks. The following “of course” dies in his throat when Minghao suddenly jabs at his chest, right where his heart is.

 

“I’m talking about this, idiot.”

 

Bambam panics, and it must show on his face because Minghao’s gaze darkens as he lowers his chin. Bambam scrambles to compose himself, but his heart betrays him by picking up in pace at the mere thought of _telling_ Jaebum his deepest, darkest secret…that shouldn’t be a secret at all. In his defense, at least he _shows_ it, even if he doesn’t say it, right? Right? Jaebum _must_ have some idea by now…right?

 

“Well, there you go.” Minghao brushes his hands as if he’s just solved the greatest mystery in the world. Maybe he did.

 

“I can’t!” Bambam blurts. He’s feeling awfully flighty – he can’t even sit still. “I mean – I _can_ – but I don’t wanna?”

 

“Why not?”

 

“It just – it doesn’t feel like the right time to say it.”

 

“Then when is the right time?”

 

“I don’t know!” Bambam stretches the hemline of his shirt taut. He feels cornered, even though there’s all this space around him and Minghao hasn’t moved an inch on the floor. “I don’t know, but this isn’t it. I know I throw those three words around occasionally with you guys but it’s _not the same_. With Jaebum hyung it – it holds so much more _meaning_ , you know? At this point, it feels too raw…I feel like if I tell him _now_ , I’ll be giving him _everything_. All of me.” Bambam stops, thinking about how real that is. Jaebum would own all of him. “…Isn’t that scary?”

 

Minghao concedes, “It is. I’m just giving you a suggestion – maybe he’s acting this way because he doesn’t know how you feel. And while most of this jealousy problem is on him, some of it is also on you. You can meet him halfway.”

 

Bambam stays quiet for a while, considering the advice. It doesn’t sound like a bad idea, but Bambam’s not sure if he’s ready for that. Hell, he’s not sure if Jaebum is ready for that. They haven’t even dated for a year yet – or is it more like, they’ve been dating for over half a year? Bambam mentally counts the months.

 

“You know, I’m not telling you to go run to him and tell him _now_ ,” Minghao snorts at the pensive look on Bambam’s face. “You have time to figure it out, however long you need.”

 

And just like that, the tension seeps out of Bambam. “Oh. Good,” he sighs in relief and then bites the inside of his cheek. He sends Minghao a small smile, which grows wider as he gets one right back. Bambam decides to risk his life and shuffles over. “This calls for a hug, right?”

 

“What?” The smile wipes off Minghao’s face and is replaced with a scowl. It’s like the soft and sweet Minghao died in that very second. “No. Absolutely not.”

 

“Why not?” Bambam protests before launching. Minghao ducks and rolls away at the very last second, putting his martial arts skills to good use for dangerous situations such as this. He raises his fists up against Bambam.

 

“I don’t do physical contact with the likes of you.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bambam frowns, but remains persistent in pursuing Minghao. It’s way too fun to rile him up like this. “ _Haohao_.”

 

“ _Stay away!_ ” Minghao actually screeches. Bambam almost lets go of his pout with the strong urge to laugh.

 

By the time Yugyeom comes home with the rest of the late attendees in tow, Bambam is chasing Minghao around the living room, trying to breach Minghao’s only line of defense: a pillow. The sound of the front door closing surprises Minghao – and that single second of weakness is enough time for Bambam to tackle Minghao down onto the couch with his arms around his torso.

 

“Aha!” Bambam cheers, victorious.

 

Minghao can only stare at the rest of the group in horror, red creeping up his neck.

 

“Well. You two sure got chummy while we were gone,” Jimin cocks an eyebrow at the mess in front of her. Meanwhile, Yugyeom starts wailing.

 

“This is an infringement of the best friend code!”

 

“Come join me!” Bambam yells, but the sound is muffled from Minghao’s shoulder.

 

“Okay!” Yugyeom stalks over, smiling sinisterly.

 

“No no no _no NO_ –!” Minghao’s soul leaves his body.

 

Changkyun shrugs, skipping over as well. “Wheee! Dog pile!”

 

Once Jungkook joins (because there’s nothing else to do), the couch fails to fit all of them and they land on the floor with varying degrees of pain and groaning.

 

Jimin watches the entire thing transpire in front of her, unamused. “Idiots.”

 

-

 

Truth be told, Bambam didn't really think about what would happen when he arrived at the port center all by himself with a small suitcase in hand. And now that he's here, Bambam has no idea why no one else is carrying their belongings. All he knows is that people are looking at him for bringing a suitcase and he has to fight to make the embarrassment invisible beneath his skin. Clearly neither Jackson nor Jaebum sent him the memo.

 

But, there’s nothing he can do about it now other than to suck it up and walk on over there with his head held high. If there’s anything he’s learned in life, it’s that confidence can turn the odds in one’s favor.

 

Bambam rolls over to the end of the queue and tries not to let the stares bother him. At the very least, the attention doesn’t last very long as more and more celebrities and billionaire heiresses arrive on diamond studded heels and slick black limousines. Camera flashes and friends alike flock to them upon entry, and he becomes no more than the mere background. Technically, the press isn’t allowed to be here – but there’s nothing juicier than a few “sneaky” photos of such an extravagant event. Bambam is paying attention too – it’s just that his eyes aren’t on the faces. They’re on the dresses. And _god_ , every single one of them looks like a dream. From the tulle to the pearls to the golden thread – they’re literally wearing artwork. He’s almost mad that these women are allowing the trains of their evening gowns to touch the pavement. It’s not about the cost of the gowns, per say. To Bambam, it’s more about respect for the work.

 

He actually doesn’t look too bad himself, courtesy of Jaebum. Although Bambam had planned on just wearing the Yves Saint Laurent two-piece from before, Jaebum had insisted on getting him a new outfit before his quick business trip to Tokyo. The gift came on an early morning – and it was actually Yugyeom whose jaw dropped upon sight and rushed to grab Bambam from his bed to sign the papers. He was excited enough to forget about his need to pee that morning, urging Bambam to open it up already and let him see.

 

It’s a Burberry cashmere suit in burgundy, lined with subtle pinstripes and matching buttons. Instead of a typical dress shirt to go underneath, Jaebum has picked out a glittery mesh shirt that leaves nothing to the imagination. (Yugyeom lets out a low whistle.) And inside a smaller box was a simple note: “wear the earrings.” Bambam let out a snort then, knowing exactly what pair Jaebum was talking about. It’s the white gold Niwaka earrings, the ones Bambam has been too reluctant to wear because of how expensive and small they are. And besides, he didn’t necessarily have the proper occasion to even consider them until now.

 

It’s a shame that he’s here alone though, because he’s finally reached the front where the chief purser is checking everyone in but is being held back simply for the fact that Jaebum isn’t here.

 

Bambam furrows his eyebrows and checks his little invitation card. “That’s…strange. Jaebum has to be present for entry?”

 

The woman’s smile is unnervingly perfect as she confirms, “Yes. I am sorry for the inconvenience but I cannot confirm your status as a guest until Mr. Im Jaebum arrives to lead you in.”

 

“Oh. Alright,” Bambam smiles wryly, stepping aside as to not cause a commotion. As they speak, Jaebum and Jinyoung should be on their way back to Korea from Japan. It was a tight schedule they had to work with in order to fit the cruise into the week when Jinyoung had initially declined the invitation in Jaebum’s stead. The surprise on Jinyoung’s face when he received the abrupt change of mind would almost be comical if it weren’t for the fact that Jaebum had to suffer through the ensuing complaints every opportunity Jinyoung got. Jaebum may or may not have turned up the volume in his Bluetooth in-ear higher after the first time.

 

“Please, sir, if you could wait downstairs?”

 

Bambam glances between the woman and _all the way down the line_. “Of course…”

 

He lifts up his suitcase and marches down the steps, determined not to look anyone because he’s one hundred percent certain everyone is staring _again_. Bambam internally screams and prays for someone to make a flashy entrance right this moment. After all, boarding the ship should be a one-way trip – being turned away at the door is just downright embarrassing, to say the least.

 

Somewhere along the way, a hand reaches out to grab his elbow, shocking him into a full stop.

 

“Hey!” Jackson grins, but his eyebrow is raised and his eyes are questioning. “Glad to see you made it! …Where are you going?”

 

Relieved to see Jackson, a face he actually knows, Bambam lets out a long exhale, followed by a nervous smile. “Mm, the lady up there said she couldn’t confirm my entry without Jaebum hyung present.” He takes the opportunity to merge into the line with Jackson, making use of the conversation. It’s not too hard, really. Half of the attendees outside are still occupied with taking photos and judging to see who’s got the fanciest entrance. It’s practically half of the fun for this cruise.

 

“Huh. Really?” Jackson looks up at the woman. The only thing indicative of his suspicion is the small wrinkle on his forehead. Otherwise, Jackson remains looking perfect and charming – Bambam is a little star-struck, to be honest. He looks amazing all done up like this. “Even after she scanned your card?”

 

“Uhm. Yeah,” Bambam nods. While Jackson is busy squinting at Bambam’s invitation and the purser up above, Bambam marvels at the fact that Jackson is indeed wearing his clothes. It’s almost bizarre, now that he’s seeing it with his own eyes. Jackson looks incredibly handsome in the black windowpane suit and charmeuse shirt. He’s heavily accessorized, covered in ice. Diamonds hang around his neck, his wrist, and his fingers.

 

Bambam bites down a grin as he stares at his work up and down. He’s so thankful that it looks just as refined and expensive as the brand he’s wearing on his back – that all that hard work has paid off to this degree.

 

“ – I think she’s just giving you a hard time.”

 

“What?” Bambam blinks, snapping out of it.

 

“Give me a moment, I’ll fix this.” Jackson pats his back twice, stepping aside with his gaze straight ahead. But before he can get very far, a cheerful voice calls out.

 

“ _Jia Er!_ ”

 

Jackson turns to the voice, and immediately, a woman in a golden mermaid dress enters their line of sight. Half of her steel silver hair is curled to the side while the other half is shaved to an undercut. Her smile is bright as she approaches Jackson, a soft manicured hand grabbing onto his forearm.

 

“ _Jie_ ,” Jackson gasps. “ _It’s been so long!_ ”

 

Bambam recognizes her as Meng Jia, one of China’s most renowned pop stars. His mouth gapes open like a fish as he recalls every single time Minghao has forced him to sit down and watch one of her new music videos in retaliation for blasting anime openings in every car ride. Minghao had called it an “education,” seeing how “uncultured” Bambam was.

 

The exchange of Mandarin goes completely over his head, of course, so Bambam just awkwardly shifts on his feet until either one of them notices him.

 

“Oh!” Jia puts her hand over her little gasp as she seemingly sees him for the first time. “Hello!” She says with accented Korean.

 

Bambam begins his greeting, but gets cut off.

 

“Do you mind if I borrow little _Jia Er_ for just a moment?” She hooks her arm with Jackson’s, leaving Jackson and Bambam just a split second to look wildly at each other. “Excuse us!” And with that, she whisks him away towards the flashing lights, and a cheer resonates as other celebrities catch the sight of Jackson and Jia coming their way.

 

Bambam waves Jackson off, never minding the apologetic look on his face. He wasn’t even spared a second to introduce himself but that’s quite alright. That’s happened many times before with Jaebum and it’s simply to be expected when he’s still a nobody in the eyes of these big stars. He checks his watch, worrying whether Jaebum and Jinyoung will arrive on time at this rate. He hopes so. He would imagine it being hard to catch a cab back home with all this traffic.

 

“Good evening.”

 

His head snaps up and he finds himself looking straight into a pair of dark monolids. A chill crawls up Bambam’s spine, causing his posture to straighten immediately. A smirk appears on the stranger’s face and the darkness from just a second ago turns into sleaziness. Bambam’s not so sure if he wants to start a conversation.

 

“Hi,” Bambam smiles carefully. There’s a second of silence where they both study each other, waiting for the other to speak up first. When the man breaks their eye contact and huffs to the side in disbelief, grinning, Bambam wonders if he’s missing something critical. Well, the face does seem somewhat familiar…but Bambam came here to mingle with fashion household names rather than politicians and businessmen.

 

“I’m Seungri.” And that’s how Bambam knows he fucked up. “Of Hyundai Motors.” Seungri looks around him with a smug, satisfied smile. “This is mine,” he gestures to the cruise ship.

 

 _Help_. “Oh _god_ , hi!” Bambam panics. “It’s so nice to meet you! Thank you for having me.” He sticks his hand out for a handshake.

 

“The pleasure is all mine.”

 

Bambam can only watch in horror as his hand is being drawn up to kiss and it takes up all of his willpower to not instinctively yank his hand back and wipe the moisture off on his clothes. He does, however, put his hands behind his back once Seungri lets him go. Bambam looks away as Seungri chuckles – and hopes that his actions aren’t mistaken as bashfulness. “I’m Bambam. Just Bambam.” He’s starting to feel a little sick. This man reminds him a lot of those random guys who would hit on him at the club but scowl and hiss slurs at him once he turns them down and steps on their ego. The only problem is Seungri is rich, influential, and could probably throw him overboard into the ocean.

 

“I couldn’t help but notice you from over there,” Seungri says smoothly, which might have flattered Bambam if he wasn’t two hundred percent _uninterested_.

 

“Surely because of this, right?” Bambam replies half-jokingly, eyes pointing towards his suitcase.

 

“Oh, no,” Seungri laughs. “I’ll be honest; I’ve seen you around before.”

 

This, genuinely surprises Bambam.

 

“You’re Jaebum’s new lover, aren’t you?”

 

Since becoming Jaebum’s boyfriend, Bambam has been with him to only a few business dinners – as in, he could probably count them on one hand. That amount shouldn’t be significant to the number that Jaebum goes to without a date because it’s just easier for him to get the job done that way. Jaebum only invites him to the more relaxed environments, where not too many will bother them with intrusive questions. Other than those “public” outings, Jaebum and Bambam go on very private dates. There’s no way Bambam would have missed seeing Seungri at those dinners, right?

 

“Yes,” Bambam confirms, unsure of what else to say.

 

“Hm,” Seungri hums. Then, he sweeps his eyes down the length of Bambam’s body. “He’s quite a lucky man.”

 

For someone who normally shows a lot of skin – _is_ currently showing a lot of skin thanks to that mesh top – Bambam suddenly wants to cover up. Something feels off about this whole interaction, but Bambam can’t quite put a finger on it. Maybe it’s the fact that Jaebum had specifically warned him about Lee Seungri, and now everything about him is tainted by that ounce of prejudice even though it’s their first time meeting. Or, maybe it’s the fact that this man is inappropriately flirting with him despite the knowledge that Bambam is taken.

 

He dares himself to look straight into Seungri’s eyes, not wanting to lose. For every bit of him that itches with discomfort, he turns into an outward look of composure and softness.

 

“No, I am,” Bambam shakes his head, smiling softly. “I'm the lucky one.” He wishes someone – anyone – would come and pull Seungri away. Surely, the host of this party would be wanted by many, right?

 

Apparently not.

 

Bambam and Seungri continue to create small talk, completely undisturbed by those around them. Whenever Bambam gets the chance to glance at his surroundings, he’s dismayed by how there’s a distance between them and the rest of the guests that wasn’t there before. It’s as if Seungri had planned this beforehand and told _everyone_ to back off. It’s ridiculous. But he can’t be rude and just walk away from the conversation. He can’t even catch Jackson’s attention because the popular actor is busy basking in the limelight and catching up with colleges from previous works. Bambam becomes so busy worrying about responding to the right cues and laughing at the right jokes that the sound of a helicopter chopping in the distance fails to register until it’s more than just a handful that are gasping and looking up towards the sky.

 

Although the smile never quite leaves Seungri’s face as he too, looks up, there’s a gleam in his eyes that perturbs Bambam enough to let his lighthearted demeanor waver. He’s almost afraid to look away, because Bambam gets the feeling that Seungri is the type of person to… _monopolize_. Wealth. Fame. Attention.

 

“My,” Seungri says airily. “Look who finally made it.”

 

The helicopter deafens the crowd as it swoops in and approaches the port. There’s a convenient clearing to the right where cars would normally be parked on a regular day. Everyone watches the spectacle with fascination as it begins to make a landing, the blades slowly whirring to a stop. Right as it hovers closer to land, excited voices can be heard.

 

“ _Im Jaebum_ is coming this year?”

 

Midst the squealing, Bambam’s jaw drops.

 

Right on the side of the helicopter, in big bold letters, reads _Im Financial Group_.

 

Bambam is shaking.

 

After a safe landing, the pilot hops out and walks in big strides around the front to pull open the door to the back seats. When Jaebum disembarks, chiseled and handsome in a three-piece wool suit in red wine, the whole world stops. All cameras turn to point at Jaebum, and the resulting narrow of his sharp eyes to see through the flashes elicits multiple gasps among the audience. He grinds his jaw for a second then settles on an aloof and cold frown. His hair is done up stylishly, and the gold chain of his brooch connecting from his right lapel to the second button on his vest makes him look like a crown prince.

 

Jinyoung is just a step behind him, equally regal in a classic black suit and shiny leather shoes.

 

Jackson stops paying attention to the chatter around him, falling silent and serious as he gazes upon the two approaching men, each with a Bottega Veneta suitcase in hand. For a split second, Jinyoung looks at him too – but it happens so fast, Jackson can’t be sure if it’s not just his wishful thinking.

 

Jaebum and Jinyoung make a powerful, intimidating duo as they walk past the gossiping crowd without even a glance to spare, heading straight to their destination. Just like all their business deals, they move with precision, elegance. There is no room for error.

 

Bambam is gaping, staring only at Jaebum with sparkling eyes until he’s suddenly only an arm’s length away. Not for the first time, Bambam thinks Jaebum is straight out of a movie. (And terribly, painfully, out of his league.) Jaebum breaks into a sweet smile and pulls him into his arms, wrapping around Bambam’s waist tightly. The embrace instantly renders Bambam down into a puddle, a long sigh escaping his lips as the tension seeps out of him. Jaebum is here, and nothing about this place seems so scary anymore.

 

“Hey,” Jaebum says fondly under his breath.

 

“Hey,” Bambam replies, a little louder, a little fonder.

 

They tear apart reluctantly, but anyone with eyes can tell they want to kiss each other. Jinyoung almost kicks Jaebum’s ass to keep it subtle – but it would be inappropriate for _Im Jaebum_ to have a mud stain in the shape on a foot on his bottom.

 

“Good evening, Seungri,” Jaebum finally turns to look at him, as if he was an afterthought.

 

“Welcome, Jaebum!” Seungri and Jaebum exchange firm handshakes. “And, Jinyoung.” They shake too, because Jinyoung is no lower than an equal despite his official title as Jaebum’s secretary. Only fools underestimate the iron grip he has on the executive board. “You’ve both been a stranger, as of late.”

 

“We’ve had much business to take care of,” Jinyoung explains politely. _You are irrelevant to our concerns._

 

“That must explain the impromptu arrival.” _What a flashy fucking entrance._

 

“I apologize for any inconvenience,” Jaebum says coolly.

 

“What do you mean, ‘inconvenience?’ You’ve gone out of your way to attend my little party after so long.” Seungri looks at Bambam. “In the meantime, I had a nice chat with Bambam here.”

 

Bambam awkwardly smiles.

 

“I see you all need to unpack.”

 

“Yes, we were unable to send our luggage in advance due to short notice.” Jaebum tightens his fingers around Bambam protectively. “If you would, we would like to board the ship and make ourselves comfortable.”

 

“Oh, of course.” Seungri steps aside to make way for them. However, as if he remembered something at the last minute, he stops the three of them and reaches into the inside breast pocket of his jacket. “This is for you,” he says, handing Bambam a black card with a chip at the bottom. Their fingers touch. “I have many events planned for this cruise, but if you ever need a little bit of peace and quiet, you are welcome to relax in the private quarters. It’s exclusive.”

 

“…Thank you.” Bambam nods, and to his own amazement, without a grimace.

 

“And of course, you two are always welcome,” Seungri smiles at Jaebum and Jinyoung.

 

“Yes, thank you,” Jinyoung abruptly cuts in. “We will be heading in now.”

 

The three of them board the ship, and everyone else must have done the same not long after as the floor beneath their feet start to sway gently once they reach their respective rooms. Leaving the dock is always a little rocky, but the ride becomes perfectly smooth after that.

 

Jaebum and Bambam are sharing a room while Jinyoung gets his own somewhere else on the same floor. Jackson is completely on the other side of the ship.

 

When everything is unpacked and they are ready to join the first evening party out on the deck, Bambam belatedly notices that he and Jaebum match. It brings a smile to his face.

 

“What are you thinking about?” Jaebum asks softly as they go up the stairs, into the buzz of beautiful people and their beautiful clinks of champagne glasses.

 

Bambam hums. “That you were right – I don’t like Lee Seungri either.”

 

Jaebum laughs loudly, baring all his teeth for everyone to see. Bambam blushes at everyone’s questioning gazes and hits Jaebum’s chest to get him to stop.

 

The sun sets behind them, painting Jaebum in orange. Bambam gets the inexplicable urge to kiss him, because he looks so lovely.

 

(So he does. And maybe…maybe, he’ll tell Jaebum his secret soon.)

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhmmMMM /SWEATS PROFUSEDLY yA....ya I know.........I've ghosted again adlsgkhsalg and my excuse of summer school was only valid for like, June-July so I really feel bad for not posting anything in August...I'm actual trash ;n; I'M SORRY, EVERYONE.
> 
> to those who follow me on twitter, SORRY TO DISAPPOINT DLSHKDAKLS I know I've been alluding to the entirety of the cruise ship (eyes emoji) for like 3 trillion years but what was supposed to happen within 10k DID NOT HAPPEN IN 10K BOIIII I'm tired of myself, this is why this fic is a monster SMH. and yes, I did agree to popping out a 20k chapter this time just so it would Fit My Intention but I got impatient and the Planned Things ended up being long enough to stand on its own...aka haha ha hahaha pls look forward to the next chapter :^) WHICH I'M WORKING ON, I PROMISE.
> 
> at this point, I'd like to thank everyone - E V E R Y O N E - who is still interested enough to read this! y'all make me cry with all your support :'( whether you're a new or old reader, I truly appreciate you from the bottom of my heart. I'd also like the mention the fact that this fic has somehow hit 3 digits worth of bookmarks??? like??? for real??? on a BBAM pairing that literally only has a devout population of 9??? CRAZY. thank you so much ;n; ThanK yoU sOOOO0o0o0O MUCH!!! 
> 
> sincerely, slow-ass broke-ass fucking-can't-get-it-together-for-timely-updates-ass tremmy <3


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